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REYNOLDS HISTORICAL: 
GENEALOGY COLLECTION. 



J 



ALLEN COUNTY PUBLIC LIBRARY 



„ 3 1833 01746 6639 



ENEALOGY 
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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2013 



http://archive.org/details/granitestatemagav2manc 



Granite State Magazine 

An Illustrated Monthly Devoted to the His- 
tory, Story, Scenery, Industry and 
Interest of New Hampshire 

^Edited by GEORGE WADLO BROW NE 



WOLUME II. 

;July to December 1906 



Manchester, N. H.: 

Granite State Publishing Company 

1906 



V 693861 

Corttente-*M. II 



PAGE 

Arnold, Matthew. You and 1 303 

Ascutney (Poem). Mrs. E. M. Wells 146 

Autumnal Tints (Poem). George Bancroft Griffith 234 

At the End of the Year (Poem). Elizabeth A. Curtis 352 

Author of the "Woodranger Tales." The Ways of the Wild 304 

Baptists in New Hampshire. Rev. William Hurlin 127 

Bartlett, Gertrude Jones. Claremont Ill 

Sketch of New Hampshire's Daughters 188 

Bill Smith's Whopper (Poem). Nixon Waterman 266 

Blodget, Hon. Samuel. George Waldo Browne 5, 63 

Bonneau, Jean X. The White Moose 343 

Brook Beneath the Snow, The (Poem). Sam Walter Foss 287 

Brown, C. M. Whip and Spur 239 

Browne, George Waldo. Hon. Samuel Blodget 5, 63 

Industry (Poem) 57 

Shadows Men Follow, The (Serial) 29, 83, 147, 227, 268, 327 

Sunset on Mount Washington (Poem) 1 

Browne. Nellie M. An Old Home Message (Poem) 162 

Burton, Richard. Snow on the Mountain (Poem) 306 

Burdick, Arthur J. The Lesson (Poem) 126 

Canoe Match, The. Author of "The Woodranger Tales" 164 

Captain Dearborn's Company. John Scales 16 

Cartoon, First in this Country. Drawn by Henry E. Baldwin 242 

Causes of the American Revolution. James H. Stark 246, 307 

Chess. George Bancroft Griffith 285 

Christmas Guest, The (Poem). Margaret J. Preston 311 

Claremont, The Picturesque and Progressive. Gertrude J. Bartlett 111 

Colby, Frederick Myron. Historic Houses of Warner 75 

My Old New Hampshire Home (Poem) 107 

Commercial Education. An Old Teacher 53 

Copway, George. Pastimes of the Indians 103 

Corn Philosophy (Poem). Sam H. Edes 101 

Cot in the Valley, The (Poem). Mrs. Miron J. Hazeltine 314 

Curtis, Elizabeth Alden. At the End of the Year 352 



IV CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Dies Doloris (Poem). Anson G. Osgood 324 

Editor's Window, The 58, 177, 235, 285, 353 

Edes, Sam H. Corn Philosophy (Poem) 101 

Ferris, Mary L. B. Lake Sunapee by Moonlight (Poem) 284 

Foster, John. Henry W. Herrick 137 

Good Old Farm, The (Poem). Rev. Leander S. Coan 51 

Granite State Rooftrees; 

Historic Houses of Warner. Frederick Myron Colby 75 

Waldron Mansion and an Oldtime Wedding, The. Lydia A. 

Stevens 299 

Griffith, George B. A Brace of Stories 60 

Autumnal Tints (Poem) 234 

In Mother's Old Garden (Poem) 81 

Harbaugh, Thomas C. The Mound Builders (Poem) 175 

Valleys of New Hampshire (Poem) 244 

Hazeltine, Mrs. Miron J. The Cot in the Valley 314 

He and I (Poem). Alice King 74 

Heartbreak Hill (Poem). Marion Hendrick 135 

Hendrick, Marion. Heartbreak Hill (Poem) 135 

Historic Houses of Warner. Frederick Myron Colby 75 

Herrick, Henry W. The Tomb of Stark (Poem) 61 

Herrick, Henry W., Sketch of. John Foster 137 

Hunting Fatalities 325 

Hurlin, Rev. William. The Baptists in New Hampshire 127 

Huse, William H. A New Hampshire Artist 183 

Industry (Poem). George Waldo Browne 57 

In Mother's Old Garden. George Bancroft Griffith 81 

Journal of Moses Kelsey. Notes by Col. Lucien Thompson 95 

Kearsarge Gore. Frederick Myron Colby 78 

Kelsey, Moses, Journal of 95 

King, Alice. He and I (Poem) 74 

Kittredge, Walter. Tenting on the Old Camp-Ground (Poem) 179 

Lake Sunapee by Moonlight (Poem). Mary L. B. Ferris 284 

Leighton, George B. A Staff Contributor 291 

Lesson, The (Poem). Arthur J. Burdick 126 

Little Red School-House (Poem). Frank N. Scott 26 

Major John Simpson. Chellis Vielle Smith 14 

Matthews, Louise Levin. October Voices (Poem) 187 



CONTENTS V 

PAGE 

Merrimack by the River. A Staff Contributor 199 

Mound Builders, The (Poem). Thomas C. Harbaugh 175 

My Old New Hampshire Home (Poem). Frederick Myron Colby. . 107 

Nature (Poem). Edna Hastings Silver 28 

Neglected By-Road, A. J. Warren Thyng 127 

New Hampshire Artist, A. William H. Huse 183 

Daughters. Gertru4e Jones Bartlett ' 188 

Home Song. John J. Loud 192 

Nestor of the Farms, The. The Schools of Yesterday 4 . 21 

Pigeon Snaring 193 

Recollections of Thanksgiving 258 

Notes and Queries (Numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 7) 236 

(Numbers 8 to 11) 286 

(Number 6) 354 

October Voices (Poem). Louise Lewin Matthews 187 

"Old" and "New Style" of Reckoning Time. K 286 

Old Home Message, An (Poem). Nellie M. Browne 162 

Oldtime Sketches. The Nestor of the Farms: 

The Schools of Yesterday 21 

Pigeon Snaring 193 

Recollections of Thanksgiving 258 

Old Ways and the New, The (Poem). John H. Yates 19 

Osgood, Anson G. Dies Doloris 324 

Pascataqua River, The. John Scales 315 

Pastimes of the Indians. George Copway 103 

Pigeon Snaring. The Nestor of the Farms 193 

Preston, Margaret J. The Christmas Guest 311 

Riley, James Whitcomb. When the Frost is on the Punkin 

(Poem) 257 

Scales, John. The Pascatqua River 315 

Schools of Yesterday, The. The Nestor of the Farms 21 

Shadows Men Follow, The. George Waldo Browne 29, 83, 147 

227, 268, 327 

Shannon, E. H. Tell it Now (Poem) 226 

Smith, Chellis Vielle. Major John Simpson 14 

Smyth Tower, The. A Staff Contributor 106 

Snow on the Mountain (Poem). Richard Burton 306 

Staff Contributor, A. The Smyth Tower 106 

Merrimack by the River 199 

Stark, James H. Causes of the American Revolution 246 

Quebec Act 307 



VI ILLUSTRATIONS 

PCGB 

Stevens, Lydia A. Waldron Mansion 299 

Sunset on Mt. Washington (Poem). George Waldo Browne 1 

Tell It Now (Poem). E. H. Shannon 226 

Tenting on the Old Camp-Ground (Poem). Walter Kittredge 179 

Thompson, Col. Lucien. Journal of Moses Kelsey 95 

James Wilson 177 

Tomb of Stark; The (Poem). Henry W. Herrick 61 

Valleys of New Hampshire (Poem). Thomas C. Harbaugh 244 

Waldron Mansion. Lydia A. Stevens 299 

Waterman, Nixon, Bill Smith's Whopper (Poem) 266 

Ways of the Wild, The. Author of "The Woodranger Tales" 304 

When the Frost is on the Punkin (Poem). James Whitcomb Riley 257 

When Shall We Three Meet Again ? (Poem) Anonymous 237 

Wells, Mrs. E. M. Ascutney (Poem) 146 

Whip and Spur. C.M.Brown 239 

White Moose, The. Jean X. Bonneau 343 

You and I (Poem). Matthew Arnold 303 



Ufet of aUustrattons 

PAGE 

An Historic Corner Frontispiece 

Atherton Falls Merrimack 208 

Baldwin, Col. Henry E Opp. 239 

Blair, Mrs. Eliza N. Portrait Opp. 190 

Blodget Homestead, The. Drawn by Henry W. Herrick 63 

Blodget, Samuel. Portrait, Drawn by Henry W, Herrick Opp. 5 

Bush, Mrs. Anna T. C. Portrait Opp. 190 

Carleton, Henry C Opp. 239 

Carpenter, Prof. David F 211 

Cartoon, First in this Country. Drawn by Henry E. Baldwin 242 

Claremont, View of Opp. Ill 

Highland View Arch 118 

Union Church 118 

Tyler Residence 118 

Jarvis Estate Insert Opp. 118 



ILLUSTRATIONS VU 

PAGE 

The Birches 

Green Mountain 

Opera House 

View from Tremont Square 

Town Hall and Bank Building 

Stevens' High School 

"Bill" Barnes' Tavern 

Highland View 

Colby, Frederick Myron. Portrait Opp. 107 

Cot in the Valley, Drawn by J. Warren Thyng Opp. 314 

Cutter, Miss Jane. Charcoal Sketch of Mr. Thyng 185 

Daggett, Mrs. Nella I. Portrait Opp. 190 

Dyer, Mrs. Julia K. Portrait by Chickering 190 

Fessenden, Anson 215 

Benjamin f 15 

Follett, Mrs. Martha E. Portrait 190 

Gun that Fired the First Shot at Bunker Hill, The Opp. 16 

Herrick, Henry W. Portrait Opp. 137 

Hesser, J. H. Portrait Opp. 53 

Hurlin, Rev. William. Portrait Opp. 127 

Indian Pastimes. Drawn by George Copway Opp. 103 

Jones, Mr. and Mrs. James T. Portraits 213 

Kept in at Recess. From an Old Print Opp. 28 

Kittredge, Walter. Portrait Opp. 179 

Home of 207 

Kit Shop, Reed's Ferry 216 

Lake Asquam. Drawn by J. Warren Thyng OpP- 186 

Leigh ton, George B: Portrait Opp. 291 

Lowell, Levi F 215 

McGaw Institute, View of 211 

Graduating Class, 1906 210 

Robert. Portrait 211 

Miller, Mrs. Ida Farr. Portrait Opp. 190 

Nesmith, Charles S. Portrait 212 

Residence 213 

Old Blacksmith Shop, The. Drawn by J. Warren Thyng .Opp. 183 

Old School-House. Drawn by J. Warren Thyng Opp. 21 



Vlll * ILLUSTRATIONS 

Pack 

Oldtime Thanksgiving Service Opp« 237 

Old Town House, Merrimack 21$ 

Old Fireplace Opp. 262 

Parker, Ward. Portrait 214 

Mrs. Ward. Portrait 214 

Homestead 214 

Pascataqua.River (Three Illustrations) Opp- 322 

Reed's Ferry, Bird's Eye View of 20T 

Sanborn, Miss Kate. Portrait Opp. 190 

Shooting Wild Figeons Opp. 266 

Sketching from Nature, School Class. Photograph by W. H. Huse 

Opp. 182 

Smyth Tower, The. Photograph by George W. Manter Opp. 94 

Soldiers' Monument, Merrimack 209 

Spalding, George F. Portrait 212 

Residence 212 

Thanksgiving Dinner Opp. 262 

Thyng, J. Warren, Lead Pencil Sketch of. Shirley Walker. . .Opp. 184 

Charcoal Sketch of. Miss Jane Cutter Opp. 185 

Cot in the Valley Opp. 314 

Twin Bridges, Merrimack 20S 

Waldron Mansion Opp. 299 

Walker, Miss Shirley. Lead Pencil Sketch of Mr. Thyng. .Opp. 184 

"We Heard Once More the Sleigh Bells' Sound" Opp. 287 

Where the Mountains Meet and Rivers Part Opp. 61 

Wildcat Camp, View of. Drawn by J. Warren Thyng Opp. 123 

Wildcat River Opp. 1 

Wild Pigeon and Snare. Drawn by Persis Richardson Opp* 194 



PRICE PER YEAR $1.50. SINGLE COPY 15 CENTS. 



VOL. II. 



JULY, 1906 



NO. 1 




I Granite State! 



1 
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MAGAZINE 



AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY 










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II 

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FIRST SCHOOL-HOUSE IN MANCHESTER. 



Ac* 

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GRANITE STATE PUBLISHING CO., MANCHESTE R, N.JL 



5 



NEVER BEFORE 1 

!n all the history of the world has there been j? 

such vast strides made in business methods nor such 

enormous business enterprises conducted as at the 5? 

present time. Never before has there been such de- 2 

mand for young persons with a practical knowledge fi 

of business. Never before has there been offered to s 

the young people of Manchester and surrounding ter- Q 

ritory such a training in Business and Stenography as t 

is now offered by the Hesser Business College, y 

Never before were there so many trained and placed t 

in positions as by this school last year and yet we | 

cannot supply the demand made upon us. M 

The best business firms of the city and state come to t 

us the second, third and fourth time for our graduates ; y 

sometimes they ask for two and even three at the K 

same time. You know that these men would not | 

come a second time if our graduates did not give sat- A 

isfaction ; you know that these men come for our f 

graduates because our standard is high enough to at- y 

tract the very best class of young persons and because *R 

they know that we enforce a system of business y 

discipline, which is the making of many a young person ; ?j 

you know that some persons will not attend a s 

school where right conduct and good work are in- U 

sisted upon and you also know that those are ^ 

the very persons you should not be in daily contact y 

with. If you should attend this school you will find K 

that every reasonable safeguard is thrown about our | 

pupils to protect them from their " friends" and, yes, A 

i themselves so that every moment's time may be im- ? 

y proved. Full Information on Request. y 

y Hesser Business College, y 

K 83 Hanover Street, J. H. HESSER. Principal. Manchester, N. H. K 



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J>urt£et on JPotmt t^asfrington 

By George Waldo Browne 

Standing upon ( the roof of the great watershed between New 
England and Canada, the observer gets one of the finest views of 
country to be found in the world. On the north lies the grand valley 
of the mighty St. Lawrence, walled in on the farther side by the 
ancient Laurentides. On the south he looks down the Appalachian 
slopes, broken by "a thousand hills" and fringed by the broken 
coast line of the Atlantic. The apex of this lofty position was Mount 
Washington, the sacred realm of the Amerinds, where it is believed 
dwelt their god. Much has been said and written of the beauties of 
a sunrise as seen from this lofty lookout, but these are more than 
equalled by the splendors of a sunset, when the wounded day lifts on 
high its tattered banner of light and sends afar its bright javelins of 
fate. — Author, 

f 

£ HE golden arrows cleave thy snowy crown, 

While thy dark vestments take a deeper brown, 
The twilight watchers ward each dark'ning zone, 
And, bolder grown, usurp the sunlight's throne. 
Blow, west wind, blow! ay, set the wild news flying : 
"The reign of day is o'er — its king is dying!" 



The sun, a broken circle, half concealed, 
Sinks 'neath the glimmer of the golden field; 
A shining halo on the azure space 
Fast flees beyond the walls of light and place. 
Moan, east wind, moan, ay, set the wild news flying: 
"The reign of day is o'er — its king is dying!" 




SUNSET ON MOUNT WASHINGTON 

A crumbling castle 'cross the shadowy lands 
Against the sky now silhouetted stands; 
A bar of bronze and silver at its door 
Now falls the wan day's purple threshold o'er. 
Sigh, south wind, sigh! ay, set the wild news flying: 
"The reign of day is o'er — its king is dying!" 

The dusky legions leap o'er castled wall, 
O'er ramparts frowning high, o'er sky, and all; 
The long light from thy hoary summit flees 
Like spirit hosts across the forest seas. 
Shriek, north wind, shriek! ay, set the wild news flying: 
"The king is dying!" echo answers "dying!" 

The twilight hangs a curtain day and night 
Between. Afar and near the stars in might 
Begin their watch, while Venus sets on high 
Her home-light in the window of the sky. 
Swift- winged winds abroad the news have spread: 
"The day is done — its king is dying — dead!" 




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Vol. II. JULY, 1906. No. 1. 




{|on. Samuel 2£lofciget 

The Pioneer of Progress in the Merrimack Valley 

By George Waldo Browne 



EW indeed have been the occasions in the affairs of 
j^Jv^s men which have failed to produce a character fitted 
to cope with the possibilities of the situation. 
War may have opened its guns with no capable 
leader to muster its armed forces, yet from out of a confus- 
ing crowd has arisen finally a figure destined to take com- 
mand and win the victory where others must have failed. 
No great question of civil government has not, sooner or 
later, found its worthy champion. It was neither the strug- 
gles of contending armies, or the settlement of some vexed 
question of civil rule which called forth the latent energies 
of the subject of our sketch. His was a duty to perform 
if an humbler a not less honorable part in the development 
of the industries of a new country, and to him belongs the 
credit of the early development of the power of the busy 
Merrimack River. 

An Indian warfare, with its accompanying horrors and 
sufferings, had overshadowed the fortunes of the colonists 
of New England for more than a hundred years, with only 
the breaking light of escape in a misty dawn, when, at the 
close of Lovewell's sanguinary struggles, Samuel Blodget 
was passing his boyhood days in his native town of Woburn, 
Mass. If one's progenitors have any prevailing influence 

5 



6 HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 

on his character, the subject of this sketch was especially 
fortunate, and it is difficult to find stronger branches of 
ancestry than those forming his family tree. 

THE BLODGET GENEALOGY 

1. Thomas Bloggett, who is the first of the family of whom we have 
a clear record, was born in Western England, probably in County of Corn- 
wall in 1605, married Susan or Susanna , born in 1598, and came to 

America in the " Increase from London," 1635, with his wife and two sons, 
Daniel and Samuel. He was a glover by occupation and settled at Cam- 
bridge; died in 1642, leaving, besides the sons named, a daughter Susanna, 
born June 1637, and a son Thomas, b, 7th August, 1639.* 

2. Samuel Bloggett, 2d son of Thomas, was born in England, in 
1633, and was brought to this country by his parents when he was 18 
months old. He married, Dec. 13, 1655, Ruth Iggleden, of Boston; died 
July 3, 1687, and his wife d. Oct. 14, 1703. Their children were (1) Ruth, 
born Dec. 28, I656; (2) Samuel, b. Dec. 10, 1658 ; (3) Thomas, b. Feb. 26, 
1661, who married Rebecca Tidd, Nov. 11, 1685; (4) Susanna, b. 



, m. to James Simonds, Dec. 29, 1685; (5) Sarah, b. Feb. 17, 

1668; (6, 7) Martha and Mary, twins, b. Sept. 15, 1673. Martha m.. in 
1696, Joseph Winn, 

3. Samuel, Jun., b. Dec. 10, 1658: m. April 30, 1683, Huldah, daugh- 
ter of William and Judith (Hayward-Phippen) Simonds, b. Nov. 20, 1660, 
(Huldah was a sister to the James who married two years later Susanna 
Bloggett.) Samuel, Jun., who became known as Ensign Bloggett and 
who represented Woburn in the General Court, in 1693, died Nov. 5, 1743, 
and his wife died March 14, 1745-6. Among their children was 

4. Caleb, b. Nov. n, 1691, m. (1st) Sarah Wyman (3), b. Jan. 17, 
1690-1. She was a sister of Ensign Seth Wyman, who was in " Lovewell's 
Fight " and in command of the company after Captain Lovewell was 
killed. Their children were (1) Seth S., b. Feb. 20,1718; (2) Caleb, b.- 
Dec. 1, 1721; (3) Samuel, b. April 1, 1724; (4) Susanna, b. June 19, 1727. 



*His widow married James Thompson, of Woburn. 15th February, 1643-4; and his 
daughter Susanna m Jonathan, son of the above-mentioned James Thompson, sen. Jona- 
than died 20th October. 1691, and his wife 6th of February, 1697-8 (?) This couple had 
eight children, the 2d, Jonathan, Jun., b. 28th September, 1663, m. Frances Whittemore, by 
whom he had nine children, the sixth being Ebenezer, b. 30th March. 1701, m. 27th Septem- 
ber, 1728, Hannah Converse. They had four children, the eldest being Benjamin, b. 27th 
November, 1729. who married Ruth Simonds of Woburn, whose son Benjamin, b. 26th March, 
1753, became in after years widely known as Sir Benjamin Thompson and Count Rumford. 
The father of Sir Benjamin died 7th November, 1755, in his 26th year, while he, (Sir Benja- 
min) died at his villa in Auteuil, near Paris, August 21, 1814, in his 62d year. James 
Thompson was a member ol the first board of setectmen of Woburn.— Editor. 



HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 7 

Caleb m. (2) Elizabeth Wyman,* 2d cousin of Sarah, by whom he had a 
daughter, Elizabeth, b. Oct. 27, 1744. 

MEMORANDA OF THE WYMAN FAMILY 

1. Lieut. John Wyman was born in England, but was a subscriber at 
Charlestown to Town Orders for Woburn, Mass., Dec, 1640, and was 
taxed at Woburn, 1645; married Nov. 5, 1644, Sarah, daughter of Myles 
Nutt, dying May 9, 1684. Among their children was 

2. Seth, born August 3, 1663, m. Dec. 17, 1685, Esther, daughter of 
Major William Johnson (3). He, who was known as Lieut. Seth Wyman, 
d, Oct. 26, 17 1 5. Among their children wast 

3. Sarah, born Jan. 17, 1690-1, who m. Caleb Bloggett (4) and was 
the mother of Samuel Blodget. 

MEMORANDA OF THE JOHNSON FAMILY 

1. Captain Edward Johnson, born in England, 1599, married Susan, 

or Susanna , who was b. in England, in 1597. He died at Woburn, 

Mass., April 23, 1672, and she in 1690. Among their children was 

2. Major William, born in England, 1629 or 1630; died at Woburn, 
May 22, 1704. He m. at Woburn, May 16, 1655, Esther, daughter of 
Thomas Wiswall, a ruling Elder of the church at Newton, Mass. They 
had 

3. Esther, born April 13, 1662; m. Dec. 17, 1685, Lieut. Seth 
Wyman. (2) she being Samuel Blodget's grandmother. She died March 3, 
1742. 

The heroic part performed by the Wymans' in the early 
history of the colonies is too well known to need mention 
here, while the Johnsons were not less distinguished for 
their bravery and mental capacity. It was to one of them, 
Edward Johnson, belonged the authorship of that notable 
narrative, " Wonder- Working Providence of Zion's Savior 
in New England," which has been so frequently quoted by 
the writers of colonial days. He was a representative from 
Woburn for twenty-seven years, and a speaker of the house 



•Daughter of Thomas Wyman (2) and granddaughter of Francis Wyman (1) who was 
a brother of Lieut. John. 

t Ensign Seth Wyman, as he became known, was a son of this couple, b, Sept. 13, 1686; 
died in September, 1725, from effects of blood poison. (See Kidder's History of Lovewell's 
Fight). 



8 HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 

in 1655. Nor were the Bloggetts behind these families as 
earnest and efficient defenders of the settlements against 
the depredations of the prowling beasts and savage deni- 
zens of the wildwood, or as upright, far-seeing citizens in 
those brief intervals of peace, which came so rarely like 
rays of sunlight struggling through the clouds on a rainy 
season, helping to lay the foundation and rear the pillars of 
that self-government which was to be the strength of a 
nation in after years. 

Ensign Samuel, his grandfather, was a man of prom- 
inence, and a son, William, served under Major William 
Tyng in his expedition to Canada in 1709.* Capt. Caleb 
Blodget was active in securing grants allowed by the Massa- 
chusetts court in New Hampshire and was among the 
grantees of the township of Washington. He was closely 
interested in the grant of the early territory of Manches- 
ter, then designated as Tyng Township. 

Coming of such stock and reared amid the rugged 
scenes of those trying times, it is little wonder that Samuel 
Blodget gave early promise of those sturdy qualities which 
were to make him an important factor in the development 
of the natural resources not only of his native town but of 
that belt of productive country from whence the busy Merri- 
mack receives its vast power, and which it has returned to 
its employers with wonderful increase, largely due to his 
inventive genius and untiring energy. 

Samuel was educated in what was called the moving 
school system of Woburn, which enabled the pupils of each 
district to enjoy about two months of instruction. He was 
fortunate in having two of the most noted teachers of those 
days, James Fowle and Ebenezer Flegg, who later removed 
to Chester, N. H., where his name was written as Flagg, 



•Mass. Archives, Military, 1704-1711. Vol. 71, page 635. 

Received Sept: 25, 1709, Twenty Shillings of Mr. Samuel Blogget of Woburne on 
account of his son William Blogget who lay sick in the Queens Service at the house of Mr. 
Bond in Watertown under the command of Major Tyng. I say received by mee. 

PHILIP SHATTUCK, 

Physic ian . 



HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 9 

and settled as minister there June 23, 1736. Before he 
had reached his majority young Blodget joined the Louis- 
burg expedition, which sailed from Portsmouth March 23, 
1745, and performed a valiant part in that successful cam- 
paign. Upon his return he went to Haverhill, Mass., where 
he engaged in traffic on the Merrimack, between that town 
and Newburyport, one of the first to engage in this busi- 
ness, which seems to have proved very profitable. 

December 29, 1748, he married Miss Hannah White, 
daughter of Nicholas White of Plaistow, N. H.,but then sit- 
uated in the Haverhill District. Mr. White had served in 
the Louisburg expedition, and was a man of considerable 
prominence at the time. His brothers-in-law, Obediah and 
John Ayers, were among the proprietors of early Concord, 
N. H. 

THE WHITE GENEALOGY 

1. William White, b. in England in 1610, came to Ipswich, Mass., 
in 1635, mov ed to Newbury the same year. In 1640 removed to Haverhill, 
being one of the first settlers of that town, and was one of the grantees 
of the Indian deed of Haverhill, dated November 15, 1642, said instru- 
ment it was said was both written and witnessed by him. He married 

Mary , who died February 22, 168 1. He died September 28, 

1690. 

2. John, only child of William and Mary White, was b. 1640; m. in 
Salem November 25, 1662, Hannah French. He died January 1, 1669. 
She m. (2) Thomas Philbrick of Hampton, N. H. 

3. John, Jr., only child of John and Hannah (French) White; was b. 
March 8, 1664; m. October 24, 1687, Lydia, dau. of Hon. John and Eliz- 
abeth (Treworthy) Gilman of Exeter, N. H., and a granddaughter of Ed- 
ward Gilman, who came from Norfolk, England, 1638, with five children, 
to settle first in Hingham, Mass., second in Ipswich, and then, 1650, in 
Exeter. Captain John White owned and commanded a garrison house in 
Haverhill, Mass. He died Nov. 20. 1727. 

4. Nicholas, the sixth of the 14 children of John, was b. in Haverhill, 
Mass., Dec. 4, 1698; m. (1) Hannah, dau. of Samuel Ayers, who was killed 
by Indians in 1708. She d. January 25, 1732. He m. (2) Mary Calfe of 
Ipswich, and d. April 7, 1782. 

5- Hannah, 2d child of Nicholas and Hannah White, was b. in what 
is now Plaistow, N. H., September 8, 1726; m. Samuel Blodget December 
29, 1748. 



10 HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 

In 1 75 1 Mr. Blodget bought a homestead of 317 acres 
of land in what was then Goffstown, but which has since 
been included in Manchester. His house was one of the 
first built in town, and was a large, old-fashioned farmhouse 
standing near the south bank of Black Brook, and about 
two miles west of Amoskeag village. This dwelling became 
a prey to fire, and another raised on its site was burned July 
6, 1885. The old elms that stood in front of it were killed by 
the fire, and only faint vestiges, growing dimmer year by 
year, remain to mark the historic spot. To this home in a 
comparative wilderness, Mr. Blodget and his young wife, 
with their second child but a few months old, removed to 
take up the burdens of busy lives. 

He still retained his interest in Haverhill, but the 
Seven Years' War was already threatening the inhabitants 
of New England, and soon after active measures had to be 
taken in order to be in readiness for the coming struggle. 
The first regiment of volunteers was raised in New Hamp- 
shire, with Col. Joseph Blanchard in command. Mr. Blod- 
get was among the first to offer his services, and he became 
sutler in the expedition against Crown Point in 1755. This 
was a notable body of soldiery, three of the captains in the 
regiment being none other than John Goffe, John Moore 
and Robert Rogers. From the company under command 
of the last named, John Stark being its lieutenant, was 
evolved that famous corps of Indian fighters known as 
" Rogers' Rangers." 

The space of this article is too restricted to follow in 
detail the war record of Samuel Blodget. He was an eye 
witness of the battle of Lake George, and drew an elab- 
orate plan of the camp and field, which he published with a 
description of the fight, in the following December. This 
was soon after reprinted in London.* He re-enlisted in 



* We hope to reproduce this plan, which is a rare document, with the account of the bat- 
tle by Mr. Blodget, in an early number of this magazine. Readers of this article who desire 
a more extended biography of Judge Blodget are referred to the Collections of the Manches- 
ter Historic Association, Vols. II and IV, — Editor. 



HON. SAMUEL BLODGET II 

the second expedition planned to effect the capture of 
Crown Point in 1757, and he was at Fort William Henry 
when that garrison suffered capture at the hands of the 
allied French and Indians under General Montcalm, and in 
the desperate conflict barely escaped with his life. Seeking 
safety at Fort Edward, he remained here over a year as 
quartermaster of the army, returning home in December, 
1758, having seen enough of military life to satisfy him for 
a time. 

The following spring he went to Boston, where he 
established himself in the clothing business, entering at 
once upon that career of success which won for him a wide- 
spread acquaintance and the confidence of the people. Not 
satisfied with doing one thing at a time, with that versatile 
capacity which seemed almost unbounded in its scope, he 
started one of the first "pot and pearl ash works" in the 
country at Haverhill, to extend this enterprise to Goffs- 
town, New Boston and Hampstead, N. H. Haverhill was 
already becoming a flourishing center of trade, and he 
opened a general store in this town, which was continued 
until 1772. Early in 1765 he built a saw-mill on Black 
Brook and engaged in the lumber trade, buying tracts of 
timber land. He opened a store in Goffstown, and con- 
tinued to run his clothing store in Boston. 

As if all this was not enough to occupy the time and 
energies of one man, with his brothers-in-law, Symonds 
and White, he entered into the scheme of planting a set- 
tlement at St. Johns, N. B., which became the nucleus of 
that prosperous city destined to fulfill the dreams of its 
founder. 

In 1769, after ten years of business in Boston, with 
the exception of about ten months in 1764, when he was in 
Medford, he sold out there and moved his family back to 
Goffstown, where he continued to carry on his other enter- 
prises with renewed vigor. It is easy to imagine that he at 
once obtained a high place in society, and from his genial, 
courteous, enthusiastic manner became very popular. He 



12 HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 

was among the richest, if not the richest man, in this vicin- 
ity, and with interests so broad and widely scattered, for 
those times, took his natural position as a leading citizen. 

In 1770 the governor appointed him collector of the 
excise of the Province of New Hampshire, and notwith- 
standing the general disfavor from the people that these 
officers met elsewhere, he retained the confidence and 
friendship of the public through two terms of the arduous 
duties of the position. 

At the time of the Battle of Lexington, his term of 
offices under the king having expired, he was engaged in 
trade at Goffstown. But no sooner had the news of this 
opening of hostilities reached him than he again entered 
the service of his country. He was actively engaged in 
the Battle of Bunker Hill, though belonging to the com- 
missary department of the Continental Army, later being 
appointed sutler of General Sullivan's brigade, stationed 
upon Winter Hill. Mr. Blodget was not alone caterer to 
the common soldiers, but the following items selected from 
the accounts of Commissary-General Trumbull we find : 

April 1, 1776, By Bread to Brig. Maj. Scammons, 435 

General Sullivan's Table 249 

B'g Q. M. G. Frazier 156 

Genl Lee's Table 96 

Upon the removal of General Sullivan's Brigade from 
Boston, Judge Blodget returned to his interests in Goffs- 
town, having concluded that he had seen enough of con- 
flict. That his popularity was general is shown by the fact 
that at the first session of the Honourable House of Repre- 
sentatives held at Exeter on the third Wednesday of De- 
cember (16), 1778-9, Judge Blodget represented Goffstown 
and Derry field, which were classed together.* 

In 1780 he served as town treasurer of Goffstown, and 
the year following he was elected one of the selectmen, and 
during his remaining stay in Goffstown he was continually 



•From original volume in Secretary of State's office labeled " Members, etc., 1775-81 
State Papers, Bachellor, Vol. VIII, p. 820. 



HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 13 

in office, serving as moderator several years. Besides 
being called upon to do the business at home, he was often 
appealed to from all over the county, was often the referee 
in important cases, judge of probate before the county 
courts or the legislature. A man of energy and character, 
he was looked up to by every one. This may truly be said 
to have been the most prosperous period of his life, and 
quite as certainly the most happy one. Those giant 
schemes, to be productive of so much good and make his 
name more widely known, but which were to deplete his 
well-earned fortune, still slumbered in the chambers of his 
mind. 

During this period he completed his invention for 
raising ships or sunken bodies from the bottom of rivers, 
seas and other deep waters. In his efforts to prove the 
worth of his invention he went to Spain to raise a Spanish 
galleon loaded with treasures, and to London to attempt 
the lifting of the Royal George. But the British govern- 
ment declined to allow him to undertake this work, declar- 
ing that another vessel by that name was in process of con- 
struction and that it would be troublesome to have two 
ships by the same name. While his "diving tongues," as 
his machine was called, proved equal to all that he claimed, 
he lost money by the enterprise, and meeting with failures 
elsewhere he became seriously involved and his health 
threatened by. overwork, he remained abroad awhile to re- 
cuperate. This was the first and only vacation of his long 
life. 

(Concluded in the August number) 





The Man Who Fired the First Shot at Bunker Hill 

By Chellis Vielle Smith 

;§^OM MAN DING a wide view of typical New Hamp- 
Zl shire scenery stands to-day, in a good state of pres- 



ervation, at the " Old Center" in Deerfield, a farm- 
house which claims the unique distinction of hav- 
ing been the home of the man who fired the first shot at 
the Battle of Bunker Hill. It is a plain, unpretentious 
building typifying in a marked degree the character of its 
builder. Its unpainted walls show the imprints of the 
heavy hand Time has placed upon it, but it is still comfort- 
able and is owned and occupied by Mr. William H. H. Lang 
and family, himself a veteran of the Civil War. The scene 
around it has changed even more than the old house, for 
where onc*e broad stretches of wilderness reached over the 
hills and lapped the valleys, the ax-marks of the lumberman 
is seen, and the farmer now cultivates many acres where in 
the days of its infancy a primeval forest covered the earth. 

The name of this patriot was John Simpson, who came 
of good' old Scottish ancestry, his grandfather having been 
Andrew Simpson, born in Scotland in 1697, anc * who mar- 
ried Elizabeth Patten in 1725. This couple came to Boston 
■a few years after their marriage, and he became a linen 
draper there. Later they removed to Nottingham, N. H., 
settling upon a farm a little south of the General Cilley 
homestead, and lately owned by a descendant, John Simp- 
son. They had four sons, three of whom were born in 
Scotland and one, Andrew, was born in Nottingham. 

The family had come to its new home at a time when 
Indian depredations were carrying terror to the hearts of 

14 




MAJOR SIMPSON HOUSE, DEERFIELD 



MAJOR JOHN SIMPSON 15 

the colonists, and in September, 1742, the alarm became so 
prevalent that the women and children in that vicinity 
sought protection in the garrison or block-house which had 
been erected near the site of the late Hon. James Butler's 
residence. Mrs. Simpson, in the midst of the period of 
anxious waiting, felt obliged to return to her home, a short 
distance away, and while going thither was killed by a 
couple of Indians lying in ambush for unwary victims. It 
is said this deed was performed by two Indians quite noted 
at that time, and who at intervals professed peaceful inten- 
tions toward the whites. Their names were Sebatis and 
Plausawa, corruptions of the French names Peter and 
Pierre. They were afterwards shot by a man named Bowen 
living in Canterbury. 

The oldest of the sons of Andrew and Elizabeth Simp- 
son, Thomas, came to this country with his parents, and 
was educated in the schools of Boston. He was the father 
of the subject of this sketch, and after remaining a few 
years in Boston he settled in that part of Nottingham since 
known as Deerfield Old Center, upon the farm now owned 
by Mr. John W. Silver. He was a land surveyor, and was 
selected, in association with his brother Andrew, living at 
the Square, to establish the line between the towns when 
the separation was made in 1766. He was chosen as the 
first parish clerk of Deerfield, which office he held until 

1773- 

Andrew Simpson married Sarah Morrison February 4, 
1747, and among their children was John, who was born 
December 1, 1748, and who lived at home until the break- 
ing out of the Revolution. When the news of the fight 
at Concord and Lexington reached in a remarkably short 
time this remote place, John Simpson, as many another 
patriot did, shouldered his gun and started to join others 
in the defense of his country. Going to Deerfield Parade, 
he joined Capt. Daniel Moore's company of volunteers, 
raised mostly in Nottingham, with Major Andrew McClary 
of Epsom in command. About eighty of these brave 



16 MAJOR JOHN SIMPSON 

young men met on Nottingham Square and, unanimously 
choosing Dr. Henry Dearborn as their leader, lost no time 
in starting upon their memorable march to Boston, march- 
ing sLxty miles in sixteen hours, and reaching a position a 
little removed from Boston at eight o'clock the following 
morning, they having started at four in the afternoon.* 

CAPTAIN DEARBORN'S COMPANY 

Henry Dearborn, Nottingham, captain; Amos Morrill, Epsom, first 
lieutenant, Michael McClary, Epsom, second lieutenant. 

The men from Nottingham were Nathaniel Batchelder, James Beverly, 
Andrew Bickford, Nicholas Brown, Simeon Dearborn, John P. Hilton, 
Joseph Jackson, Zebulon Marsh, William McCrillis, Jacob Morrill, Robert 
Morrison, John Nealley, Andrew Nealley, David Page, Joseph Place, 
Enoch Page, James Randall, William Rowell, Peter Severance, Samuel 
Sias, Mark Whitten, Charles Whitcher, Matthias Welch, Benjamin 
Welch. 

The men from Deerfield were John Runnels, John Simpson, Joseph 
Thomas, Joshua Wills, Israel Clifford, Jonathan Cram, Benjamin Jud- 
kins, Josiah Moody, Clement Moody. 

The men from Northwood were Jonathan Clark, Jeremiah Dow, Jon- 
athan Dow, John Harvey. 

The men from Epsom were Bennett Lebbee, Francis Locke, Moses 
Locke, Benjamin Berry, Theophilus Cass, John Casey, Andrew McGaffey, 
Neal McGaffey, Amos Morrill, Abraham Pettingill, John Wallace, John 
Wallace, Jr., Weymouth Wallace, Andrew Field, Simon Sanborn. 

The men from Gilmanton were Jeremiah Connor, Jonathan Gilman, 
Elisha Hutchinson, Dudley Hutchinson, David Mudgett. 

■ The men from Chichester were John Bickford, James Garland, Josiah 
Lebbee. 

Jn addition to the above were Gideon Glidden of Lee, Noah Dolloff 
of Brentwood, David Page, Jr., of South Hampton and Noah Sinclair of 
Loudon, Matthias French of Stratham. 

Nottingham of all places in New England ought to forever observe 
the anniversary of the Battle of Bunker Hill, and on that day listen to the 
roll-call of the Nottingham company that participated in that historic 
conflict. 



* In this connection it seems very appropriate to include a list of the men who went to 
Cambridge upon the morning of April 20. 1775, as it has been prepared by John Scales of 
Dover, and was published in the Manchester Union. July 14, 1902.— Editor. 



MAJOR JOHN SIMPSON 17 

Some of the men, who had duties to perform at home 
demanding their attention, returned, but John Simpson 
was among those who remained. He was mustered into 
service and his company occupied a position close to that of 
the regiment down by the rail fence under command of 
General Stark. They were thus near to the redoubt where 
Colonel Prescott and his men received the first attack and 
were driven back. 

The Americans were short of ammunition, and thus 
their leaders, Prescott, Stark and Putnam, gave their 
famous order to their men that they hold their fire until 
they could see the whites of their enemies' eyes. "Aim at 
their waistbands — at their handsome coats!" commanded 
Colonel Prescott, as the British in their bright uniforms 
appeared, making tempting targets for the patriots lying 
behind their poor defense. 

"Don't fire yet — till the word is given!" was passed 
along the line as the men grew impatient. In the midst of 
this suppressed excitement, one of the soldiers under Cap- 
tain Dearborn suddenly leveled his musket at a British offi- 
cer and fired. The man was seen to reel and tumble from 
his seat, but before the incident could be discussed by the 
men behind the ramparts the battle was on. Colonel Pres- 
cott was routed, but Stark with his New Hampshire men 
retreated only when the last grain of powder was gone, and 
then in perfect order. 

An inquiry was made the next day to ascertain who 
tired the shot against orders, and John Simpson was placed 
under arrest and he suffered a court martial, but his punish- 
ment was light, for none of his superiors felt like censuring 
an act that they knew was simply the outbreaking of devo- 
tion to country. So the man who fired the first shot at 
Bunker Hill was allowed his freedom, with a larger meed of 
honor than any of them dreamed. 

In the summer of 1778 John Simpson was made a 
lieutenant in Simeon Marston's company of Colonel Pea- 
body's regiment which belonged to the battalion of troops 



18 MAJOR JOHN SIMPSON 

raised for the defense of New England and New York. 
The original commission making John Simpson a lieutenant 
is now in the possession of Samuel N. Simpson of Kansas 
City, Mo. It bears the seal of the state of New Hamp- 
shire, and is signed by the president and secretary of the 
council. He was afterwards promoted to major. 

When the Revolutionary War had ended Major Simp- 
son returned to Deerfield and resumed farm life, which he 
followed to his death. He never applied for a pension, and 
never received any pay for the part he acted during the 
war for independence. He used to say " My country is too 
poor to pay pensions." 

He was married to Mary Whidden of Brentwood, 
N. H., in the year 1785. Mrs. Simpson's mother was a 
cousin of John Langdon, and she received from her parents 
as a wedding present two colored people, John Robinson 
and wife. This couple were not considered slaves by Major 
^ Simpson, but were treated by him as members of his 
family. 

The children of Major John Simpson and his wife 
were: 

1. Joseph Langdon, born February 8, 1787, and died 
February 28, 1808, while on his way home from school. 

2. Thomas, born August 2, 1788, studied for the min- 
istry. He was ordained to preach in the Congregational 
church, and settled in the West. He married Elizabeth 
Lamprey in November, 1809, and died December 1, 1872. 

3. John, Jr., born March 2, 1790, lived on the home 
place. He died February 8, 1868. 

4. Samuel, born January 29, 1792, died January 13, 
1872. 

5. Mary, born June 5, 1794, died November 11, 1832. 

6. Hannah W., born April 29, 1797, lived on the home 
place with her brother John, where she died July 18, 1872. 

Major Simpson died October 28, 1825, and was buried 
in the family lot. For many years the grave of this Revo- 
lutionary soldier was uncared for, but a few years since his 



THE OLD WAYS AND THE NEW 19 

granddaughter, Jerusha W. G. Chalmers, had his remains 
moved to the Old Center cemetery, where a fine granite 
monument, made from Deerfield granite, marks the grave 
of this patriot. 

He bequeathed his farm to his son John and daughter 
Hannah. The old gun, with its memories, was also given 
into their keeping, and before they died they gave it to a 
nephew, Dr. Timothy G. Simpson, of West Fairlee, Vt. 
Losing his son and only child, he has given the precious 
heirloom into the hands of his brother, Samuel, whose sons 
Charles and Burnett will receive it at his decease, if they 
outlive him. 



By John H. Yates 

I've just come in from the meadow, wife, where the grass is tall and 
green; 

I hobbled out upon my cane to see John's new machine. 
It made my old eyes snap again to see that mower mow, 
And I heaved a sigh for the scythe I swung, some twenty years ago. 

Many and many's the day I've mowed 'neath the rage of a scorching sun. 
Till I thought my poor old back would break ere my task for the day was 

done; 
I often think of the days of toil in the fields all over the farm, 
Till I feel the sweat on my wrinkled brow, and the old pain comes in my 

arm. 

It was hard work, it was slow work, a-swinging the old scythe then ; 
Unlike the mower that went through the grass like death through the 

ranks of men. 
I stood and looked till my old eyes ached, amazed at its speed and 

power. 
The work that it took me a day to do, it done in one short hour. 



20 THE OLD ^AYS AND THE NEW 

John said that I hadn't seen the half; when he puts it into his wheat 
I shall see it reap and rake it, and put it in bundles neat, 
Then soon a Yankee will come along and set to work and learn 
To reap it and thresh it and bag it up and send it into the barn. 

John kinder laughed when he said it, but I said to the hired men, 

" I have seen so much on my pilgrimage through my threescore years and 

. ten, 
That I wouldn't be surprised to see a railroad in the air, 
Or a Yankee in a flying ship a-goin' most anywhere." 

There's a difference in the work I done and the work my boys now do ; 
Steady and slow in the good old way, worry and fret in the new. 
But somehow I think there was happiness crowded into those toiling days, 
That the fast young men of the present will not see till they change their 
ways. 

To think that I should ever live to see work done in this wonderful way '. 

Old tools are of little service now and farmin' is almost play ; 

The women have got their sewin' machines, their wringers and every sich 

thing, 
And now play croquet in the dooryard, or sit in the parlor and sing. 

Twasn't you that had it so easy, wife, in the days so long gone by, 

You riz up early and sat up late, a-toilin' for you or I. 

There were cows to milk ; there was butter to make ; and many a day did 

you stand 
A-washin my toil-stained garments, and wringin' 'em out by hand. 

Ah ! wife, our children will never see the hard work we have seen, 
For the heavy task and the long task is now done with a machine. 
No longer the noise of the scythe I hear, the mower — there ! hear it afar ? 
A-rattling along through the tall, stout grass, with the noise of a railroad 
car. 

Well! the old tools now are shoved away; they stand a gatherin' rust, 

Like many an old man I have seen, put aside with only a crust ; 

When the eye grows dim, when the step is weak, when the strength goes 

out of his arm, 
The best thing a poor old man can do is to hold the deed of the farm. 













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Drawn for the Granite State Magazine by J. Warren Thyng 

THE OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE 




The Schools of Yesterday 

By Thk Nestor of the Farms 



"On a highway corner the school-house stands, 
Under an elm tree broad and tall; 
And rollicking children in laughing bands, 
Come at the master's warning call." 



.HERE are few recollections dearer or more lasting 
to us than the memories of our school days. The 
incidents and events of the intervening period, if 
more exciting, may have fled like a forgotten dream, but 
the associations of our school life have become fixed upon 
our minds. Our parents, and grandparents, too, delighted, 
whenever they found opportunity, to describe their own 
school days. How grandmother's eyes would kindle as she 
spoke of those good old times, when the boys or young 
men, for it was nothing uncommon for men and women to 
go to school then, wore cocked hats, buckskin breeches, 
long stockings reaching to the knees and tied with garters 
ornamented with silver buckles. The master wore a wig 
one hundred years ago, or had his hair braided and hanging 
down his back like a Chinaman. 

School-houses were not plenty in those days, and most 
of the schools were kept in .private dwellings, one room 
being set apart for the time to afford a place for the school. 
Oftentimes these apartments would be an unfinished por- 
tion of the house, with a rough floor and few small windows. 
These windows would be seamed with many cross-bars of 
wood separating the panes of glass, there being as many as 
eighteen small lights in a single window. In winter a 
great, crackling fire leaped and roared up the wide-mouthed 

21 



- 



22 OLDTIME SKETCHES 

fireplace, as if exulting over the fact that it was an impor- 
tant factor in this system of education. 

The pupils had no desks in this primitive school room, 
and often their seats were simply slabs laid upon rude 
blocks of logs sawed, it may have been, from the huge back- 
log at that time burning lustily on the blazing hearth. 
Printing presses were then "few and far between," so books 
were not only too expensive for the poor, but too rare for 
even the well-to-do. Often two or three books would have 
to meet the needs of a large class, they being passed along 
from' one to another as the turn came to read. 

Some crack in the floor was usually selected as the 
"boundary line," so to speak, for the class, and along this 
arbitrary mark each one was expected to place his or her 
toe, and woe to the one who happened to miss it by the 
fraction of an inch. At the stern command of the master, 
"'Tention !" every one ducked his head, and immediately 
the one at the head began to read, passing the book to the 
next as soon as he had reached the end of the paragraph. 
From what I have been told, I do not think there were 
many good readers in those days, when elocution as an art 
was not taught. When the last member of the long row 
of readers had blundered through to the close of the exer- 
cise, the master began to put them through a severe course 
of spelling, and whoever missed a word had to drop 
down the line, while the fortunate speller took his place 
~ with an air of triumph. It was thought a great disgrace to 
be at the foot of the class, and some of the hardest mental 
fights were fought in the spelling class. 

There were really only three studies then — the three 
R's— " reading, 'riting and 'rithmetic." Writing paper was 
even more scarce and expensive than books, and in this 
emergency the boys would sometimes go into the woods, 
peel the bark from the white birches that grew smooth, 
and split it into thin layers or leaves. The ink was made 
by boiling the bark of the white maple, and pens were 
made from goose quills. It was considered an honor to be 



THE SCHOOLS OF YESTERDAY 23 

able to sharpen these pens properly, and the boy who was 
selected by the master to do this, as the day's hour in the 
practice of penmanship began, was looked upon with envy 
by his school-mates. The ink-stand was made from the 
tip of some ox horn sawed off the right length, and a 
wooden plug fitted into the bottom with a smaller one at 
the top. 

Naturally the discipline was very severe. The master 
held the undisputed right to punish his pupils according to 
his will, and it was generally understood that the boy who 
was flogged at school should receive a duplicate chastise- 
ment at home. So the majority of the masters whacked 
even the big boy over the head at their pleasure and blis- 
tered his hands with the heavy white oak ferule that they 
carried with them even more closely than our policemen do 
their billies. If a boy whimpered while receiving his pun- 
ishment, he was looked upon as "a cry baby." Charles 
Carleton Coffin relates that one of the masters of his early 
days did so much whipping that he cleared a great swamp 
of alders near the school-house which would never have 
been cut off but for him. 

It is possible the boy had this contingency in mind 
who, when he was asked how he liked to go to school, re- 
plied that he liked the going well enough, and the coming 
was all right, but the being there was what he didn't like. 

With all their rigid discipline, and generally it was 
needed, it frequently happened that the boys got the 
" upper-hands " of the master. I have been told of a case 
of this kind where the teacher had resolved to give up 
teaching and go to chopping wood, when he received a note 
from an unknown source requesting him to give the school 
another day's trial. Accordingly, though not without many 
misgivings, he opened the school upon the following morn- 
ing. All of the big mischief-makers were present, and he 
knew from the general appearance that a crisis was near at 
hand. He had barely finished the morning exercises, when 
a horseman rode up to the door, dismounted and stalked 



24 0LDT1ME SKETCHES 

into the room without the formality of knocking. He was 
a tall, stalwart man, dressed in a fur coat, which made him 
look much larger, and he carried in his hand a heavy, green- 
hide whip. Glancing sharply over the surprised assembly, 
he said in a clear, penetrating tone: 

"With your master's permission, I wish to teach you a 
short lesson in good behavior. I will make it brief but 
impressive." 

Without further words this stranger then began to ply 
his big whip furiously over the heads and shoulders of those 
refractory young men, and so swiftly and furiously did he 
wage his attacks that the whole scene was over before the 
terrified victims could rally sufficiently to make a united re- 
sistance. Never was such a flogging undertaken and car- 
ried out within the knowledge of those present. When the 
last rebellious subject had been trounced to his liking, while 
the amazed master looked on with trepidation, the stranger 
called the school to order, saying: 

«' I have ridden a hundred miles, more or less, to give 
you that lesson, and I hope you will never forget it. Now, 

Master , go on with your school, and just as sure as 

you need me again I shall come, and where I have given 
one blow this morning I will give twain next time." 

Then, with an air of deep gratification, he marched 
slowly out of the house, mounted his horse and rode away. 
There may have been those who could have disclosed his 
identity, but if so they died with the secret locked in their 
bosoms. As he never came back, we are reasonably sure 
his "lesson" was well learned. 

Before this period was the time of the log school-house, 
and our ancestors, if strict in their religious principles, were 
equally as earnest in the matter of education. Each grant 
of a township made to the members of a certain community 
bore its stipulation concerning the building of a meeting- 
house and then a school-house. As early as 1649 education 
was compulsory in southern New England, though in New 
Hampshire the matter was not treated in quite as rigid a 



THE SCHOOLS OF YESTERDAY 25 

manner. Indian troubles held in check the growth of 
schools longer here, but no sooner had the warwhoop of the 
untutored red man died away than every settlement began 
to give attention to the education of the young. Soon the 
number who could not read, write and cipher was small. 
Complete illiteracy was unknown and crime uncommon. If 
textbooks were far from numerous, so were the works of lit- 
erature more limited in variety, though there was no district 
so remote that copies of Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress" and 
Milton's " Paradise Lost " were not to be found in the 
homes. Almanacs then took the place of magazines, and 
weekly newspapers the place of dailies. In the midst of 
the wilds of Hanover, in 1770, Dartmouth College was 
founded, its first hall being a log house. 

Amid the difficulties that beset the youth of a century 
or more ago, who desired to obtain an education, they did a 
great work for the world. From among them came the 
patriots who 4< fired the shot heard around the world." 
They numbered among them some of the foremost states- 
men of the period, the ministers, the teachers and the men 
of progress whose works have redounded to the good of all 
coming generations. 

At the beginning of the nineteenth century the custom 
gained ground of establishing a certain type of dwelling- 
house and of school building. A small, one-story struc- 
ture thus became the representative edifice for the latter 
purpose, and as it was painted red, when painted at all, it 
came to be known as "The Little Red School-House," and 
the American system of education was styled under that 
name. It was an American institution, though the idea 
was transplanted here from England, and along close lines 
to the free schools first established in the mother country 
in 1554 under Queen Mary. The reign of the little red 
school-house was a bright one, and the following parody 
upon "The Old Oaken Bucket," written for the Boston 
Glohe some ten years or more ago, seems worthy of repro- 
duction. 



26 OLDTIME SKETCHES 

THE LITTLE RED SCHOOL-HOUSE 
By Frank N. Scott 

How dear to this heart are the scenes where I wandered, 

In the days when a boy I lived on the farm, 
The ground where I played, and the seat where I pondered 

On beauties of Nature that only could charm ; 
The brook and the meadow, the bars that stood by it, 

The walk where the lilacs were sparkling with dew ; 
The shady piazza, the rose that grew nigh it, 

The little red school-house my infancy knew — 
The little red school-house, how well I remember 

The little red school-house my infancy knew. 

The wide-spreading elm and the seat that stood near it, 

The little hill pasture where hollyhocks grew ; 
The little red school-house, I can't but revere it, 

With its wide-open doors, and curtains of blue. 
How often I went there with mind that was glowing, 

To learn what was good and beautiful, true, 
Where stores of rich learning were full, overflowing, 

The little red school-house my infancy knew — 
The little red school-house, how well I remember 

The little red school-house my infancy knew. 

How gently the teacher gave each admonition ; 

How quickly I made them at home in my heart ; 
They've fitted my life in its every condition, 

And hard has it been from those lessons to part. 
And now when the years that are rapidly going, 
. Are leaving the wrinkles we all of us rue, 
When-thin are my locks, and the silver is showing, 

I think of the school-house my infancy knew — 
The little red school-house, how well I remember 

The little red school-house my infancy knew. 



<< 



The Little Red School-House" was followed by 
another type, such as the writer knew better, which too fre- 
quently escaped or rather missed the coat of paint to shel- 
ter it from the weather. This was the little brown house 
under the hill, where he gained the rudiments of his edu- 
cation. It was a plain, square building with a chimney at 
either end, and a door opening into a little porch on one 
side. The floor ran through the middle of the building, 



THE SCHOOLS OF YESTERDAY 27 

with the teacher's desk at the end opposite from the 
entrance. On either side of this narrow floor were three 
tiers of seats with four seats in a row. For some reason 
quite unexplained the floor under these seats had a gradual 
ascent until it reached the wall. This was a continual 
menace to the safety of every roguish scholar, for just as 
sure as he dropped anything it would roll away with more 
spite than the River Eiser in Campbell's poem, u rolling 
rapidly ! " though it was thirty miles away from the scene 
the writer was describing. 

Those high-backed seats, placed upon timbers large 
enough for the sills of a modern house, were capable of 
holding four scholars at a time. They were graduated in 
height, but those in front were not low enough to allow the 
feet of the small boy to reach the floor, while, as their 
height increased in a ratio in keeping with the ages of the 
pupils, the larger boys did not fare any better. In this 
dilemma we used to rob a neighboring fence of its boards 
and slabs with which to build foot-rests reaching from sill 
to sill. As these were not nailed in place, and like all tran- 
sient objects were easily displaced, it frequently happened 
that one end or the other would suddenly drop to the floor 
with a loud crash. The result may be more happily im- 
agined than described. 

A form of punishment in those "good old days" was 
"to hold down a nail in the floor," though the nails seemed 
quite capable of looking after themselves. I have seen as 
many as a dozen boys engaged in this occupation at one 
time. What a row of innocents doing penance ! I wish 
our artist had caught their picture as well as he did that of 
the four unfortunates who had to stay in at recess because 
they missed in naming the rivers of the Dark Continent, or 
some other dark secret. But these have all passed away, 
even to the house itself. Another building of greater pre- 
tensions, and with the modern improvements, has risen on 
the site of the old one. I do not know if the lessons are 
any better learned than of yore, or if there are nails in the 



28 NATURE 

floor. I do know that, where from sixty to seventy 
ruddy, healthy boys and girls came here to fit themselves 
for the duties of life, only a baker's dozen now attend. 

All honor then to the old house, the memory of whose 
checkered associations lives as a bright spot in the mind, 
even if the old chimneys did smoke on a cloudy morning, 
and some of the teachers lost patience with us. We won- 
der now that they bore with us as kindly as they did. The 
fractions properly adjusted, the interest taken, the propor- 
tions given and equations solved have entered into the real- 
ities of life in all its parts of speech. Before that eventful 
May morning of our first entrance within its portals, life 
had been one round of self-amusement, without a thought 
for the future. From that time there might be play-hours, 
but there must be work-hours too. All at once, as it were, 
we had come to realize that 

u Life is real, life is earnest." 



Mature 

By Edna Hastings Silver 



Chaste as Diana is she whom I love, 

Free from deceit as the spirits above, 

Fair, and as mild as sweet Cynthia's light, 

Pure as a dew-drop refreshing the night, 

Soothing her spell as she acts on the heart, 

Stealthily there she engrosses a part ; 

And though mild is her sway and her language so sweet, 

Yet envious rivals ne'er bow at her feet ! 

But beautiful, pure and sincere though she be, 

So chaste and so rare, yet she smiles upon me. 

Kindred and friends would you know this fair dame ? 

God is her Maker, and Nature her name. 



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From an Old Print 

KEPT IN AT RECESS 



A Plain Tale of Plain People, Some of Whom You May Have 
Known, All of Whom Lived a Third of a Century Ago 

By George Waldo Browne 

Author of - The Woodranger," " The Hero of the Hills," With Roger's 

Rangers," "The St. Lawrence River," "Japan," "Paradise 

of the Pacific," " Pearl of the Orient," etc. 

[Copyright, 1906, by the Author] 

What shadows we are and what shadows we pursue ! — Burke. 

CHAPTER I 

THE RETURN OF THE PRODIGAL 

My thoughts go back to the rosy prime, 

And memory paints anew the scenes 
Afar in the bleak New England clime, 

Though half a century intervenes. 

— Anon. 



W, 



E WHO moves with the rapid progression of the 
^ world has little idea of the furious pace he is pur- 
suing, until he visits one of the isolated districts 
the steam king has ignored and the advance agent of pros- 
perity has long since dropped from his list. The accumu- 
lated memories of bygone days hang like frayed curtains 
over each scene, and the inertia of dreams makes stupid 
the actors in a drama played year after year in a little circus 
ring of life. That country hamlet with the very suggestive 
name of Sunset, forming the more thickly settled portion 
of the town of Foxcraft, belonged to this class. But the 
meteor strikes where it listeth, and the lightning of swift- 
moving events sends its quickening dart sometimes into 

29 



30 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

even such forsaken corners. Sunset is only recovering, 
after these years, from such a shock. I may amuse you 
awhile by telling the story. Many have laughed over it ; 
many have cried over it. It is certainly ridiculous enough 
to warrant the mirth, and sufficiently pathetic to call for 
the tears. 

The day had been warm for September, and the dust 
lay thick and sensitive along the road winding over the hills 
and dipping into the oval-shaped valley comprising a large 
share of the town mentioned, and the two wayfarers plod- 
ding ahead with alternate fits of moving and resting, as 
their sluggish natures dictated, kicked up such a cloud of 
dry particles of earth as to give their figures a shadowy 
appearance, not unlike the veil of mist overhanging the 
mythological brothers of Osmedes, always advancing toward 
the sunlight but doomed to keep within the pale of gloom. 

That they were not common tramps was evident from 
their affected gentility of dress and manners. Both were 
in what is poetically styled the prime of life, though threads 
of silver were streaking the brown, wavy hair of the fore- 
most, and the crows' feet of time had begun to trace their 
pencilings upon a countenance which still held a claim to 
good looks, if deprived somewhat of manly grace by an air 
of recklessness that is the legacy of long contact with the 
seamy side of life. His garments bore ample proof of long 
service, and certain places called plainly for patches more 
substantial than the coating of brown dust modestly set by 
invisible hands upon the threadbare cloth. 

His companion was ten years his junior, and with this 
decade to his credit his features happily retained their 
youthful frankness and freshness. He was taller than his 
friend and of more slender build, with a step more elastic. 
But this was not particularly to his credit, for ten years 
hence he might not be able to boast of this. If the other 
had been an adventurer of long standing, he had been a 
football of fortune longer than he could remember, and to- 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 31 

day he followed this chance acquaintance without any set- 
tled object in his mind. 

On the crest of the hill overlooking the egg-shaped 
landscape, with its bottom of plain and rim of mountains, 
the older man paused abruptly, facing his companion with 
his hands in his pockets and a peculiar pucker on his lips, 
which gave forth no sound for a brief time. The sudden 
break in the advance of the twain, for the younger quickly 
imitated the example of the other, seemed to have been a 
signal for the squirrel in the tree-top over their heads to 
check its flying journey along its railroad of the air. With 
cheeks puffed out with their freight of beechnuts, it was 
moving to its winter bin, it looked shyly down on the 
intruders. A sharp call from its mate, on a distant perch, 
was unheeded by this alarmed sentinel, though the silent 
partner of the firm gained courage as it continued to watch 
the suspicious strangers. Farther away could be heard the 
shrill exclamations of several of their kindred, happily un- 
conscious of the discovery which had awakened the fears 
of the one nearest the road. Ringing sharply above these 
chirps of innocent glee sounded the notes of a jay, as it 
shot hither and thither on what seemed an aimless quest, 
while higher than this light-hearted bird, looking like a 
swallow on the blue ceiling of space, circled lazily in its 
trackless path a hawk, sending forth an occasional cry of 
mirthless derision. 

"What do you say, old man," began the older of the 
twain, when he had taken a swift survey of his surround- 
ings, "wiH you wager your last penny that not a soul in the 
old town will remember me ?" 

"Not the last but the first I see rolling my way, 
Reuben Rover. So I go you one better. If the conditions 
do not suit you, please remember that a man is not expected 
to have money without a pocketbook, or a pocketbook with- 
out money. Neither does the careful financier boast of his 
resources on the king's highway. But letting alone such a 
trivial affair as an understanding of what is already known 



32 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

between the members of a business firm without capital 
or patronage, how. long did you say it had been since you 
ran away from the town which I judge lies at our feet ?" 

"As if I had not told you until my tongue is black 
and blue. I have a notion to emblazon it on a placard as 
large as a door and fasten the same to your stupid self! In 
the first place I did not run away; I walked every step, 
upon my honor I did. For the last time I will graciously 
inform you, Leonard Quiver, that it has been just twenty 
years and four days since I shook the dust of Sunset Flats 
from my heels. It was on the night of the twenty-second, 
as I shall always remember — the night of the party at Cale 
Wheat's — when I left father and home in a huff, and as if 
fate was not satisfied with what had been done, Mary Tem- 
ple and I quarreled." 

" Let me see," said his companion, referring to a piece 
of well-thumbed pasteboard, "that agrees with what you 
told this morning, but about noon — " 

"Close your mouth! I don't care what I said under the 
sweltering sun of noonday, what I say last is always cor- 
rect. But let argument alone. You will agree with me 
that never were two poor mortals more completely 
strapped," turning a ragged pocket inside out as he spoke. 

"Strapped and starved!" declared the other, adding, 
"mighty fine alliteration that. Do you weaken, Rube, 
now you draw near to the citadel of your hopes? Have you 
still the moral courage to face the paternal head of the old 
home?" 

"Is it possible you have known me for ten years, 
shared my dry crusts in adversity and my gold-crusted cake 
in prosperity, and ask that foolish question ? Did I weaken 
under the great test or life in death in Tukestan ? Did I 
show the white feather in Moscow, even when the mad rab- 
ble of wild Russians were clamoring for our lives ? Not I, 
who has wandered the wide world over, and who has drained 
to its dregs the cup of misfortune. I was a headstrong 
youth beyond doubt, but he might have dealt more kindly 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 33 

with me. A little less of harshness on his part would have 
kept me at home, where I belonged. But he determined 
to break my will, forgetting it was the honest inheritance 
that came to me from him. We quarreled over a trifle 
and we parted, each blaming the other. 

" I need not tell you how forcibly that parting scene 
came back to me this very morning when we were at that 
little railroad station where we stopped a few minutes. 
You may not have noticed them, but I saw a father and 
son there waiting for the train. The young man was 
stoutly built and taller than his father, a manly boy and the 
superior of his parent as regards physical appearance. But 
the two seemed to be on the most happy terms, and I 
could hear the father giving his son, of whom I could see 
he was proud, some parting instruction while they stood 
there. Then the cars came thundering into the station, 
and while they clasped hands the boy stooped and kissed 
his father, gently, reverently, as was most fitting. With 
this precious adieu they parted, the old man looking 
proudly, hopefully after his son. Do you think a boy 
trained under such an influence will ever go astray ? 
Never. The sweet power of a mother's kiss has been 
sung by the poets and praised by philosophers, but there is 
a lasting memory for good in a father's kiss, and the boy 
who is thus blessed will never sow his wild oats. 

"But if the governor still nurses the embers of his 
anger toward me, I have a friend at court whom I am sure 
will secure me a glad reception. Ay, Leonard Quiver, 
there will be no fatted calf killed to honor the return of 
this prodigal, but I can assure you of a cordial greeting. 
I have one of the best mothers in all the world, and she has 
not forgotten or condemned her wayward son. How many 
times have I thought of her, and I do not understand now 
how I have delayed this home coming so long. 

"What a nine days' wonder it will be! How the gos- 
sipers will talk and speculate. I can see the circle of them 
gathered in Squire Newbegin's store. There is old Frost 



'. > 






V 833864 



34 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

Fritters, bent nearly double with the rheumatism ; Captain 
Eb, so good-natured he is foolish; Deacon Goodwill, so 
tight and straight-laced that his soul has become squeezed 
into the crown of his tall hat ; Lish Whittle, who looks 
upon life as a pine stick and work as a jack-knife ; Life 
Story, the champion philosopher of storyland ; Old Chellis, 
the town pauper — shade of the Himalayas ! won't our com- 
ing be a rare treat to such a rare crowd? " 

"You talk as if this fine flock of fellows — did you 
mark that fine alliteration? — were waiting for you, forget- 
ting it has been twenty years since a little tiff with your 
sweetheart sent you out into the world's Sahara. Changes 
take place in that time, and men and women come and go." 

"Not in such a slow-going town as this. Mark my 
word, we shall find the same tattling gossipers ready to 
retail the story of the prodigal's return who were there to 
gloat over his going away," starting forward at a more rapid 
gait on the descending way. 

Freed from its cause of alarm the squirrel skipped to 
join its mate with the story of what it had seen, while a 
belated cricket took np the notes of its broken song. 
Overhead the hawk descended into a smaller circle, and the 
jay became silent. 

"How the years help to strengthen the sight," declared 
the returning prodigal, communing with himself rather than 
addressing directly his companion. " Not even when I was 
living among them did the features of the old town stand 
out so plainly and prominently as they do now. We have 
come through a gateway between two mountains. This 
miniature Alp upon our right is known in local geography 
as 'Old Augatuck,' an Indian name said to mean 'Smoky 
Chief.' This lower and more crooked range on our left, 
tapering away to the hills on the north, is 'Rainbow Moun- 
tain,' while the foothills on the east are dubbed 'Beetle 
Ridge.' The scattered dwellings dotting the hillside and 
height comprise a portion of the town of Hillgrove, called the 
Beetle Ridge district. Lower down, where you see a pass- 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 35 

way between the highlands, hidden from us by the woods, 
is a small cluster of houses making up the settlement 
known as 'The Harbor.' But you must not think that 
speck of water you see gives it that name. The nickname 
originated in the days of the pioneers, when a blockhouse 
there make it a harbor of safety to the Indian-haunted set- 
tlers. The pond is called the 'Old Chief's Mirror,' short- 
ened to ' The Mirror.' But, like most names thus bestowed, 
the term is a misnomer. With its boggy shores and sunless 
depths, it is anything but clear. Thougrrtwo streams unit- 
ing below us, run through the valley, passing within a short 
distance of this pond, this stagnant pool has neither visible 
inlet or outlet, and it is claimed on authority that has never 
been disproved that it is bottomless. A sort of infernal 
well, it boils, and surges in its ugly moods in a manner cal- 
culated to frighten the timid. Straight ahead, as the road 
runs, is the principal settlement of Foxcraft called 'Sunset 
Flats.' 

"The soil of the lowlands is light and unproductive, 
while that of the hillsides is rocky and shallow. 'Like 
earth like men,' as the saying goes, the inhabitants are peo- 
ple of moderate means. To make it worse for them there 
has been a constant warfare existing between the residents of 
Foxcraft and Beetle Ridge. Just how this rivalry began 
not even the ' oldest inhabitant ' could ever give any clear 
account. Tradition says that the territory making up the 
towns was inherited by two brothers, twins, who immedi- 
ately began to dispute in regard to a division of their inher- 
itance. Finally one settled in the valley and the other on 
the hill, to become the leaders of other pioneers founding 
homes about them. But the brothers grew more and more 
jealous of each other, and this bitterness of feeling was 
shared by their respective followers. So intense did this 
animosity become that he who dwelt to the east, on the hill, 
in order to keep the morning sun from lighting the path of 
his brother, built a high fence on his elevated domains, 
spiking hemlock slabs upon cedar posts that he swore would 



36 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

outlast any living man. Not to be outdone in such cunning, 
the other brother climbed the rocky ridge forming his back- 
ground, and raised a still higher barrier on stone uprights 
to shut out the sunsets from his rival. These and sundry 
other performances that no one can believe have all been 
preserved in the legendary accounts of those 'good old 
days,' and have served to keep the flame of animosity 
alive. 

" If this utter lack of brotherly love made such sight- 
less mortals of these two, their successors became zealous 
legatees of the unfortunate trust. Sunset might have 
been the shire town of the county but for the opposition of 
Beetle Hill or, putting the shoe on the other foot, the Hill 
town might have gained the coveted honor but for the re- 
lentless enmity of the rival at its feet. So it has been in 
everything." 

Keeping up a desultory conversation, the couple con- 
tinued to draw nearer to the country hamlet which was 
their destination. Two or three small farmhouses, showing 
little signs of thrift, and which were closed on this partic- 
ular afternoon, were passed, when they came in sight of 
one of those private graveyards which were once so com- 
mon in New England. The size of this showed that it 
belonged to several families. The rays of the westering 
sun fell with subdued effect over grassless sandbanks, and 
threw deepening veils of shadow over flattened mounds 
barren of flowers and verdure of all kinds. Down in one 
corner a bed of that wild plant, half weed, half flower, 
known in country parlance as "life everlasting," illustrated 
fitly here the aptness of its name. Otherwise, even if this 
humble object deserved to become an exception, there was 
in this little "village of silence" no flower, no grass, no 
tree, only the carpet of sand laid with tacks of gravel, 
whose rust-colored heads dotted promiscuously the surface 
worn and wrinkled where the spade of the sexton had failed 
to smooth out its scars, and the slanting beams of the Sep- 
tember sun draped each headstone with shadowy crape. 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 37 

Like a solemn mourner lingering near the sacred scene, a 
solitary crow sat crooning in a pine that grew some rods 
away. At the sight of new-comers he rose silently on his 
dark wings and disappeared. 

A rounded tumulus of earth formed the center of the 
yard, where a few withered specimens of vegetation showed 
that some one had sprinkled the spot with forget-me-nots, 
and the first object to catch the attention of the wayfarers 
was a massive granite column marking the place. 

"By jove!" exclaimed Quiver, "that's a fine monu- 
ment to be raised on such poor land as this. It must have 
been somebody of importance." 

"I do not know who could have died in this vicinity of 
sufficient consequence to call for such a memorial, unless 
some rich or titled stranger died from starvation while pass- 
ing through the town. Let's look the place over. There 
may be something for us to learn here." 

The gate was secured against entrance by a heavy pad- 
lock, but they quickly scaled the stone wall, and a minute 
later were wandering amid the graves. An entire stranger 
in this vicinity, Leanord Quiver found little to interest him, 
but his companion scanned with eager gaze such of the 
headstones as bore inscriptions that could be deciphered. 
He had not gone far, however, before he emitted a whistle 
from between his pursed-up lips, and he followed it with 
the remark: 

"It looks so my reputation as a prophet would have 
stood better had we kept away from this place, which holds 
the secrets of the past locked in breasts that never betray 
their trusts. Here is the grave of old Frost Fritters, who 
fell under the frost of Time some five years ago. The 
plain stone confesses to seventy-five years that he managed 
to fritter away on earthy Let's look farther, and we shall 
get a fair idea of those who are left, every man of whom I 
dare say I can call by name. Egad! here is Justin Jones, 
who died young, as the good should, to save their reputa- 
tion. I see nothing of the grave of that deluded make- 



38 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

shift, old Chellis, so Sunset must keep its pauper! It is a 
punishment, I dare say, for its wickedness! Halloa! here 
lies a schoolmate of mine, who helped me build many a 
youthful castle. He and I often planned how we would see 
the world together, and our geographies were marked from 
cover to cover with the places we would visit when we 
became men. He barely lived to manhood, while it was 
left for me, a runaway, to traverse the globe from corner to 
corner, if a spherical body can have a corner. But, after 
all, life holds no triumph like the dream of anticipation, 
and no success like the — " 

Reuben Rover, who was addressing himself more than 
his friend, suddenly checked his speech. He had paused 
in front of the granite monument that stood so conspic- 
uously on the summit of the yard. 

"Is it possible he has gone, too?" he asked in a lower 
and more serious tone. Then, in a still lower voice, he read 
from the inscription : 

<t( Sacred to the Memory of Aaron F. Newbegin, the 
only Son — ' " stopping in the middle of the sentence, while 
his companion saw a swift pallor overspread his features. 
"So the Squire is not dead after all, but it is his son. I do 
not understand this. There is a mystery here. Let me 
see; the inscription says he died the year following my 
hasty departure, aged nineteen years and four months." 

"You knew him ? " questioned Quiver, looking up from 
the .weather-stained headstone he was examining with a list- 
less interest. 

" Knew him ? I ought to, Leonard Quiver, for I do 
not mind telling you now that / am he ! " 

If for a moment the other thought he was jesting, the 
earnestness of his voice and the look of anxiety which had 
suddenly swept over his countenance was proof positive 
that he was sincere in what he said. It was a minute or 
more before the first found courage to say : 

" So you are the son of this Squire Newbegin of whom 
I have heard you speak ? If that is so, how does it come 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 39 

that he has erected a noble monument to your memory?" 

"Ask me something easier. I am fogged. It isn't 
every man who has the privilege of living to read his own 
epitaph." 

" Probably the old man looked upon you as dead when 
you left him in that unceremonious manner." 

"But I am credited here with living a year after I 
parted from him. No, Leonard Quiver, there must be 
some other explanation. I will confess I do not understand 
it. Look ! there is another inscription. Read it, Leonard. 
A dimness has come over my eyes. They have not been 
the best since that fearful ordeal on Libyan Desert. Read 
it, Leonard ; read it softly ! " and the speaker, now trem- 
bling with emotion, turned aside with downcast gaze. 

" It says," began Quiver in a gentle tone, "that Mary, 
wife of Aaron Newbegin, died on the tenth of October, 
1 8— " 

The returned prodigal stood with bowed head for, what 
seemed to his friend, a long time, until a low, impressive 
voice from the distance fell upon the solemn silence by 
saying : 

"All men are equal in death. The only gold buried in 
the grave is the memory of an honest name, and the only 
poverty is the lack of good deeds done in the flesh. No 
one should be judged by the size of his monument. Who 
drops a penny here helps to pay for a tombstone to the 
memory of a man who deserved better treatment at the 
hands of those whom he trusted not wisely but too well." 



40 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

CHAPTER II 

THE DEAD LETTER 

An' I set an' rule the people, for I now am sillickman. 

— Sam Walter Foss. 

At the very hour the returned prodigal and his com- 
panion were entering the town of Foxcraft, in a manner 
that gave little indication of the intense purpose behind 
their listless movements, the selectmen of the country ham- 
let were in session in the little ding}' room partitioned off 
from the large hall on the second floor, and dignified by the 
name of "Selectmen's Ofhce." The meeting had not 
called out, as yet, any visitors to the small apartment at the 
head of the winding stairs, which fact seemed to show that . 
there was no business at this time of any importance to 
demand the attention of the taxpayers. Outward appear- 
ances are often deceptive, and in this case the calm upon 
the surface of public affairs was quickly to change to the 
black storm which swiftly follows the unnatural stillness of 
the elements preceding it. 

As if he anticipated the importance of the issue at 
stake, it must be allowed that a marked degree of solemnity 
was apparent in the demeanor of the chairman of the board, 
a tall, loose-jointed, angular man of sixty, by the name of 
Ebenezer Root, as he took his accustomed place at the head 
of the table. His stiff gray hair stood up with rigid 
straightness, while a rim of yellowish whiskers formed an 
ox-bow under his chin, with ends running up on either side 
connecting it to the bristling locks above with a sort of 
hook-and-eye hold, framed in a face of rugged simplicity. 
Just now a look of perplexity, if not of some graver influ- 
ence, overspread each feature. 

On his right sat the second member of the board, Dea- 
con Timothy Goodwill, trying to stick together two bits of 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 41 

paper with a mixture of flour and water, a pinch of the 
former having been brought by him from his home. He 
was a tall, spare man, clothed in a well-worn suit of black 
which hung so loosely on his attenuated figure that it 
seemed as if he was about to step from the whole outfit. 
In a chair by his side stood upside down as a receptacle for 
a variety of papers a tall white hat of a style long since out 
of date. Its huge bell-crown was literally stuffed with doc- 
uments of a decidedly legal appearance, many of them 
stained with perspiration and the sparse hair on the head of 
the wearer. 

At the foot of the table, but not far removed from his 
companions, as that article of furniture was not large, sat 
the third man, who was quite dissimilar from the others. 
A few more years on this side of the allotted threescore and 
ten remained to his credit than belonged to the twain 
described. He was a little under six feet in height, while 
he was more heavily built than the deacon and more com- 
pact than the chairman. His features showed more firm- 
ness than those of the latter, and a certain repose which 
the former's lacked. Clear blue eyes peered out from under 
beetling brows with a sharpness not often discerned in orbs 
of that color, while the Roman nose and square chin 
denoted both firmness and moderation in his manner. He 
was clothed in a gray business suit. If quiet and unassum- 
ing, he impressed the observer as one not only master of 
himself but a person likely to master others. His name 
was Aaron Newbegin, though he was more often called 
" Squire Newbegin," or the " Squire," a name better known 
than that of any other within a radius of many miles. If 
serving now as the last on the board, he had the advantage 
of his companions in the fact that he had had an experience 
of over twenty years as one of "the town fathers," and 
generally as chairman. He was acting now under protest, 
and had shifted upon his colleagues all of the burden he 
could place upon them. Squire Newbegin was a busy man, 



42 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

according to the common saying in town, u with more irons 
in the fire than all the others in Foxcraft." 

As Chairman Root, whose everyday name was "Cap'en 
Eb," he having served in his younger days awhile as com- 
mander of a company of militia, sank into his high-backed 
seat, he pulled from an inner pocket a soiled and disfigured 
missive, holding it in his hands as if undecided whether to 
give it to one of his companions or return it to his pocket. 
It w r as this letter, evidently, which had given him his uneasi- 
ness, and as many of us do with trouble, he was reluctant 
to part with it. Squire Newbegin noticed his indecision, 
and asked , 

"Got a letter, Eb?" 

" Wa'al, I mus' say, Squire, it's beyond my mos' sartin 
tellin'. Yeou see it cum yesterday, to th' mayor o' Sunset, 
an' I bein' the cheermain o' th' board o' sillickmen Lias 
nacherally gin it tu me. Uv a sartinty I opened it, an, 
aw'al, I've been openin' it ever since. There be thet 'bout 
it thet I aint rested much since it cum. I got my son John 
to read th' pesky thing, I did, Squire, an' I snum he cudn't 
make more hoss-sense out'n it 'n I cud. Es th' time wus 
so nigh fer us to git together I 'lowed I cud du but leetle 
better 'n tu wait fer our meetin'. Will yeou sort o' p'int 
out th' facts in it, Deacon?" 

"Et 'd be a great privilege, Eben, but th' fact is my 
glasses air cracked so I'm afeered et'd bother me. Let th' 
Squire tackle et. He ought 'r be good et guessin' out sich 
things seein' he writes sich a miserable hand hisself." 

Squire Newbegin took the letter without appearing to 
notice the thrust made at him, but before he opened it he 
scrutinized the outward portion of the mysterious missive. 

" Did you ever see th' beat on't, Squire ? " asked the 
chairman. " It 's all writ and stumped over es if it had 
been to Chiny and back." 

*' So it has pretty nearly, seein' it has the postmarks of 
as many as six postofrlces, with something down here in 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 43 

the corner I can't quite make out as to whether it's a post- 
mark or a smirch of dirt. It's a dead letter." 

"A whut, Squire ? " cried the other, starting to his feet 
with surprise written upon his sun-taxed features. " I 
deon't jess ketch yer idee. I've seen most everything 
dead, but I never see a dead letter. It smells all right." 

" I did not mean that, Captain. This letter seems to 
have been sent ont a long time ago — I should say about 
fifteen years, though the first date is blurred. For some 
reason the letter did not get here as it ought to have done, 
and it went to Washington, where it was opened and sent 
to another address. Let me see, the first postmark seems 
to have been Newmarket, fifteen years ago, and it got back 
to Newmarket in about three years. Then it was mailed 
again, with a new stamp, and — I vum! I begin to read the 
riddle. The first time it was sent out it was directed to 
Sunset, but that not being the name of the town or any 
postofrke here, of course it stands to reason it went astray. 
The next time it was sent out the name of Foxcraft was 
added. See; it was done by a different writer, and in dif- 
ferent ink. This has been done recently, as one can see by 
the brightness of the color. It has taken it but one day and 
a night to get here this time. Now let's see if what is 
inside does not agree with what I have said." 

Then, while his companions looked on with unfeigned 
wonder, Captain Root giving expression to such exclama- 
tions as " I snummy — I du say, what a fine thing eddication 
is," Squire Newbegin drew forth the contents of the well- 
worn envelope, just as the chairman wound up by saying: 

"By gum, Squire, now I think on't, John said sumthin 
like thet, but I didn't quite ketch on. Nacherally I wouldn't 
at the fust tellin'. So thet is a dead letter? I mus' say I 
wus eenamos' afeerd uv th' pesky thing when yeou first dis- 
kivered whut it wus." 

" The date inside bears me out in my surmise," said 
the Squire, unheeding the words of Captain Root. " The let- 
ter was written on September 28, 18—, fifteen years ago." 



44 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

"Thet's whut my son John made out, but whut stiv- 
ered him an' me wus how it could be fifteen year a-comin' 
from sich a leetle place as Newmarket. Uv course Lias 
didn't mislay it; sort uv fergit to put up in th' rack till — " 

" Mislay it ! " broke in the Squire ; " haven't I said that 
the first time it never got here, but it went to the dead let- 
ter office at Washington. The second postmark was made 
only yesterday, or rather the day before, so it couldn't have 
been at the office here long." 

"So yeou did, Squire," acknowledged the chairman. 
"Wa'al, thet clars one pint. Mebbe th' rest '11 gin in to 
yeou. I wish my son John was here to help yeou a bit." 

Before reading the letter to his anxious colleagues, 
Squire Newbegin glanced hastily down the closely written 
page, which gave Deacon Goodwill opportunity to say : 

•' Must be th' ornery critter was shamed 'o whut he 
writ or he'd let go on't sooner th' second time. But then, 
ye can never tell. Sile Swett waited mor'n two year afore 
he heerd from his boy, an' then th' letter wus so siled an' 
mussed yit looked as if yit had been through a cider mill." 

"Like 'nough it had, Deacon," assented Captain Root. 
"Yeou can never tell whut's comin' — I mean whut ain't 
comin' — when yeour boy's in th' ignerent city. My son 
John wus alwus pumpous 'bout writin', I can say thet. 
Read th' letter out loud, Squire. Nacherally we air a bit 
cur'us to hear whut a dead letter has to say. That is, th' 
Deacon is, seein' I hev heerd it read." 

By this time Squire Newbegin had reached the end of 
the communication, to the bold signature, with the ornate 
flourish. Without further delay he read aloud: 

September 28, 18 — . 
To the Mayor of Sunset : 

Sir — I do not think it is necessary for me to go into many details in 
regard to what I have to say. If you are as intelligent and well-informed 
in regard to town matters as you ought of be, you will not need this notice 
to let you know that I hold a note against your town for forty thousand 
dollars, with interest for several years. This note was given for money 



>. 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 45 

borrowed of Justin Bidwell, who is now dead, and whose heir I am. 
Therefore I expect you will pay this without longer delay. I will call upon 
you in person in a few days, bringing the note, and expecting to get all of 
my money. 

Very truly yours, 

TRISTAM BIDWELL. 

After a silence of a few minutes, during which Squire 
Newbegin was busy with his thoughts, Chairman Root ven- 
tured to say : 

"Wa'al, Squire, du you git th' hull on't inter yeour 
head to wunst?" 

tl His meaning is quite plain, though he seems like a 
hoss that ain't quite certain what it is going to do, and sort 
of fills in the intervals by kicking and balking." 

" Say, Squire, heow'd it du fer my son John to writ 
him, an' sort o' pound in all the big words he kotched up 
atcoolidge?" The redoubtable captain intended to mean 
by the last word " college," where his "son John" had 
spent three years, more or less, in getting an education, 
under general principle meaning considerable "less." 

"I see no need of that," replied the Squire. "But 
here's another paper. Let me see what this has to say. 
This has been written recently, as a sort of continuation of 
the other. It says simply : 

I shall be with you at once. Have the money ready. 

T. B. 

"Holy Moses !" exclaimed the Deacon, thet reads more 
like bizness. It's thet ol' claim o' thet Bidwell agin th' 
taown. Hain't ye consarned over et, Squire?" 

"I don't intend to lose any sleep over a dead letter. 
The writer puts me in mind of the fable of the ass hunting 
wild goats in a lion's skin. He put on this skin expecting 
it would give him such a frightful appearance that he would 
scare the goats into easy victims. But when he came to a 
cave filled with them he forgot his assumed character and 
he began to bray as loud as he could. The goats, which at 
first had been terrified by his outward appearance, now grew 



V 

46 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

bold and ventured to go out where he was kicking and 
braying. Surprised at this the ass asked them why they 
hadn't been scared into giving up at once, when the goats 
told him he had betrayed his true character by his foolish 
noise. This man shows the weakness of his case by the 
manner in which he states it." 

"But there is a claim against the taown fer sum sich a 
sum, isn't there ?" asked the cautious deacon. "Th' taown 
did borrow money of a man named Bidwell, which some 
say never has been paid?" 

" It did borrow money— forty thousand dollars— but it 
was paid, and the man died a long time ago." 

"But sposin' he should turn up alive — or sumbuddy 
else should — an' he should cum like an ass in a lion's skin, 
d'ye really think he has enny showin' ?" 

" Sposin' my bay mare had a ringbone, would she be 
worth as much as she is now?" 

"Wull, I ruther conclude not, Squire, though I'm not 
boastin' o' my jedgment on hoss flesh, seein' I never traffic 
in th' ungodly — I mean I never — seldom — swap hosses," 
stammered the other, growing very red in the face. 

" Who in thunder said anything about swappin' hosses, 
Deacon ? You seem to have got the cart before the hoss. 
But let that alone. There is a great deal of * sposin" in 
this Bidwell claim against the town. There will be time 
enough — come in ! " 

The break in Squire Newbegin's speech was caused by 
a timid rap at the door, and in answer to his summons a 
woman entered the apartment with an air of hesitation, 
while she glanced anxiously over the little group about the 
table. She was still on the sunny side of forty, and her 
countenance retained something of the beauty and grace of 
her earlier womanhood, though it bore unmistakable traces 
of grief and anxiety. As if to conceal this she had drawn 
forward over her face the old-styled bonnet she wore until 
it was half-hidden by its shadows. Her slender figure 
was clothed in a gray dress looking sombre and faded. 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 47 

Pushing back her bonnet slightly, she addressed Squire 
Newbegin : 

" I am sorry to disturb you, Mr. Newbegin, and I will 
go away in a moment. But they are going to sell my home 
this afternoon, and I have come to see if you cannot save it 
for me. You have been very kind to me in the years past. 
It is breaking mother's heart and mine. He insisted 
on having the money, and I told him the truth when I said 
I didn't have a cent." 

"Why didn't you come to me before, Mary Temple?" 

" I had come so many times I was afraid to come again, 
but mother said I must come, and my husband said if I 
could put off Mr. Crafts a little longer he would get the 
money." 

"A fig for all that worthless husband of yours ever 
said, Mary. Forgive me for the harsh words. I will see 
what can be done for you and your mother. I suppose 
really Crafts' mortgage is for more than the place is worth, 
or what it would bring under the hammer. How did you 
come to have this indebtedness?" 

"I got the money for Norton. He thought he could 
replace it before it came due." 

"You should have known better than to have trusted 
him, Mary. I am not upbraiding you for your mistake. 
You have been honest, and I am sorry for you. Where is 
your husband now?" 

"He went away yesterday with a couple of strange 
men, and I have not seen him since. I wish he were here, 
for I need him so much." 

"He has been no help to you, Mary, but a hindrance. 
It is rather late now to stop the sale, but I will see what 
can be done. I was planning to go to the auction anyway." 

Mary Temple bowed and, seeing nothing could be 
gained by remaining, left the room. 

" I kalkilate she has larned by this time et would hev 
been better to hev not married thet wuthless cousin o' 



48 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

hern, Norton Temple," declared Deacon Goodwill. " He's 
nuthin but a miserable sot ennyway, an' how — " 

"Tut-tut, Deacon ; what's done cannot be undone. 
Norton Temple has been a burden to her, but Mary's been 
loyal to him. I'm sorry for her." 

"Mebbe ye think o' takin' up th' mortgage," said the 
other. "There ain't menny farms in town thet ye ain't got 
a claim on." 

"Too many, Timothy; too many. I am mortgage 
poor. Halloa, Nat! What trouble do you bring, my 
daughter?" 

"Nothing quite so serious as the load poor Mary is 
carrying, I trust, father," replied a new-comer, stepping 
lightly into the room. "Aren't you going to help her save 
her home?" 

The fair, girlish speaker, whose roseate face was 
framed in a waving fringe of dark hair, with black eyes that 
mirrored the clear, bright light of an intelligent mind, 
advanced rapidly to his side, laying a soft, shapely hand 
upon his broad shoulder as she finished speaking. It re- 
quired but a glance of the most indifferent observer to 
comprehend that she was a gentle prototype of him, a 
brave, stern, undaunted spirit, modified by womanly deli- 
cacy and beauty. In her presence his manner lost its 
aggressive determination, and he seemed the kindest of 
parents; not that he was ever unkind to her. 

"I fear you are too late, Natalie," he replied slowly. 
"What, going?" he asked of the others, who had risen as 
if to leave. 

"Why, ya'as," replied Captain Root. " Yeou see most 
everybuddy '11 be tu th' auction, I thought mebbe I'd go. 
Th' Deacon thinks 's haow he'll stiver hum. I swan, Nat! 
he concluded, looking squarely upon the fair visitor, "Yeou 
grow harnsomer every blessed day o' yeour life." 

With this rather blunt compliment, which she did not 
think called for any reply, the chairman and his companion 
left the father and daughter alone. 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 49 

"What is this, father?" asked the latter, whose gaze 
had fallen upon the mysterious letter which Captain Root 
had forgotten to take with him. Without waiting for his 
reply, she picked up the missive and hastily read it 
through. 

"Why, father! this is the same matter Uncle Life was 
speaking to me about only a few minntes ago. He says 
two strange men have come to town, and that one of them 
is the man who holds this note. He is coming to claim the 
money. What is there about this business, father? You 
have never told me of it, except to evade my questions. 
And you have always been very frank in other matters. 
Tell me now what it means." 

"Nothing that need trouble your little brain, Natalie. 
It is the memory of an affair that happened before you 
were born. At that time the town got into a corner over a 
railroad and a lawsuit and had to borrow forty thousand 
dollars. This money was borrowed of a man named Justin 
Bidwell, a relative of my first wife. This money was col- 
lected and supposed to have been paid, but there does not 
seem to be any proof of this fact in existence." 

"What became of the note? " 

"It was supposed to have been lost." 

"Supposed? Do you not know, father?" 

"Nobody does, Nat. It has never been produced." 

"Whatif.it should be?" 

"Wait until it is, daughter, before you question me." 

"Uncle Life told me that John Temple, Mary's father, 
was town treasurer at the time." 

"He was." 

"And you were collector and agent." 

"I was," looking away to escape her piercing gaze, 
which somehow grew uncomfortable to him. 

"Mr. Temple has been dead more than ten years," she 
continued, "and you are left alone to meet this charge, 
father. There is something wrong about it, and you have 
been worried over it." 



50 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

"We will wait until the note has been produced before 
we begin to worry, Nat. Are you going to the auction?" 

"How long ago was this note given, father?" she 
questioned, as if she was not to be turned from the thought 
uppermost in her mind. 

"Nineteen years, child." 

"Then it is outlawed long before this. Why didn't 
you tell me that before, father? and her countenance 
lightened. 

" It was an attested note, good for twenty years, my 
daughter. But do not let such things trouble you. Come, 
let's go to the auction." 

"Stay, father! if this note should be found it would be 
good for its principal and accumulated interest at six per 
cent." 

"Unless we could find some proof that it had been 
paid." 

"It would amount now to over one hundred thousand 
dollars," she resumed, mentally calculating on the sum the 
accrued interest would have reached, making her estima- 
tion roughly. 

" I haven't cast the interest, nor do I see any — " 

"Father, you have considered this. Your manner 
shows it. It has worried you. You realize that if this 
note is presented at this late day, but in season to save it, 
that Foxcraft is a bankrupt town, and you a ruined man!" 
■ "I will defy the man to collect it without a bitter 
fight," he replied stubbornly, arising and leaving the room, 
followed by his daughter after a brief pause. 

(Continued in the August number) 




The following poem, which belongs to the famous " Old Corporal Series," was written by 
the Rev. Leander S. Coan, who was settled in Alton, N. H., for five years previous to Sep- 
tember 24, 1880, the day of his death. He was the eldest son of Deacon Samuel Coan, of 
Garland, Me., and was born in Exeter, Me., November 17, 1837, a direct descendant of Peter 
Coan, who came to America from Worms, Germany, in 1715. On his maternal side he traced 
his ancestry back to the Pilgrims who came over in the " Mayflower." His poems had a wide 
circulation. 

" There's got to be a revival 

Uv good sound sense among men, 
Before the days uv prosperity 

Will dawn upon us again. 
The boys must learn that learnin' 

Means more'n the essence uv books ; 
An' the girls must learn that beauty 

Consists in more'n their looks. 

*• Ef the boys all grow up savants, 

Studyin' rocks V bugs, 
An' the girls grow up blue-stockin's 

Or experts in kisses 'n' hugs, — 
Who'll keep the old plow in order, 

Or fix up the traces V tugs ; 
Who'll sweep the floor uv the kitchen, 

Or weave up the carpets V rugs? 

" Before we can steer clear uv failures, 

An' big financial alarms, 
The boys have got to quit clerkin' 

An' git back onto the farms. 
I know it aint quite so nobby, 

It aint quite so easy, I know, 
Ez partin' yer hair 'n the middle 

An' settin' up for a show. 

" But there's more hard dollars in it, 

An' more independence, too, 
An' more real peace 'n' contentment, 

An' health that's ruddy an' true. 
I know it takes years uv labor, 

But yu've got to ' hang on' in a store 
Before you can earn a good livin' 

An' clothes, with but little more. ' 

51 



52 THE GOOD OLD FARM 

44 An' yer steer well clear uv temptation 

On the good old honest farm, 
An' a thousand ways V fashions 

That only brings ye to harm. 
There aint but a few that can handle. 

With safety, other men's cash, 
An* the fate uv many who try it 

Proves human natur' is rash. 

** So, when the road to State's-prison 

Lays by the good old farm, 
An' the man sees a toilin' brother 

Well out uv the way uv harm, 
He mourns 't he hadn't staid there, 

A-tillin' the soil in peace, 
Where he'll yet creep back in dishonor 

After a tardy release. 

** What hosts uv 'em go back, broken 
In health, ' n' mind, 'n' purse, 
To die in sight uv the clover, 

Or linger along, which is worse ! 
An' how many mourn when useless 

That they didn't see the charm, 
The safety 'n' independence, 
v Uv a life on the good old farm. 

" So preach it up to 'em, parson, 

Jest lay it out plain 'n' square, 
That land flows with milk 'n' honey, 

That health 'n' peace are there. 
An' call back the clerks 'n' runners 

An' show 'em the peace V charm 
That waits to cheer an' bless them, 

On father's dear old farm." 

The Corporal's farm bears witness, 

His cottage is snug and trim, 
The failures and embezzlements 

Have no " hard times " for him. 
Long may he live to enjoy it, 

Free from financial harm, 
A true New England nobleman, 

Who thinks, while tilling his farm. 




Mr. J. H. HESSER, Principal 

Hesser Business College, 

Manchester, N. H. 



fK 



Commercial <£bucaticm 

By An Old Teacher 

HE expansion of the Commercial Education idea 
during the past few years has been most remark- 
* r able, widespread, and, perhaps, unprecedented in 
all the annals of education. It is safe to assert that no 
•other combination of studies has ever awakened such a 
popular demand as has the so-called business subjects. 
And this demand is real, not imaginary. It has been of a 
comparatively slow growth although general, and cannot be 
classed among the "fads" as was the craze for vertical 
penmanship which, it is sad to note, is still inflicted upon 
our children by some of our progressive (?) educators to 
their lasting distaste for the beautiful in pen art and a hor- 
rible chirographic habit. 

Whence came our commercial education? From the 
Business Colleges. The exact time and location of the 
birth of the business c®llege is a much discussed question 
in the fraternity and is loudly claimed by several more or 
less widely known business colleges of the present time. 
However, all agree that the first great impetus was given 
to the work about the close of the Civil War when a large 
number of business colleges sprang up in various cities 
and taught many of the returning soldiers "in three 
months " how to make fearful and wonderful beasts, birds, 
and serpents with a pen and enough bookkeeping to become 
bank cashiers, railroad presidents, etc., immediately (?). 

Because of the extravagant claims of the enthusiastic 
promoters of those schools, the term business college came 
to be a by-word and their graduates the laughing-stock of 
the business men, nevertheless, employment was afforded 
them and the better ones "made good." As time passed, 

53 



54 COMMERCIAL EDUCATION 

the field of the business college came to be recognized as a 
very promising one for energetic men of good education 
and business skill and many of the old colleges drifted into 
such hands while new ones sprang up in every large city. 
The efforts of such progressive men made their enterprises 
profitable. Stenography was added to the course of study, 
but was in small favor until the invention of the typewriter 
added an important factor to the work of training office 
assistants. It then became possible for the stenographer to 
transcribe his notes with a rapidity before undreamed of 
and the worth of a stenographer in the business man's 
office became apparent. 

In the earlier days of the business college the plan of 
selling tuition was to put a round price upon a scholarship, 
good for life and a few years longer, and sell it to any per- 
son who could be induced to buy through the eloquence of 
the promoter. The purchasers in many instances were 
persons of mature years who got all the training they 
desired (or could stand, for it was poor) in a few months 
and left, "graduated" or disgusted — often the one, more 
often the other. In the course of a few years this plan of 
selling tuition gave place to a monthly rate which is still 
in vogue except in rare instances where some fakir clings 
to the good old method of selling scholarships until he has 
bled the community and then turns his school over to some 
unsuspecting purchaser to teach out his contracts. Such 
methods had a tendency to keep down the business college, 
but progressive, honest intelligent men have gradually 
advanced commercial education until it is now on a high 
plane. 

It may be very difficult for many persons who have 
been accustomed to term the business colleges as " educa- 
tional scavengers " and to belittle their work, to believe 
that to them almost wholly belongs the credit of breaking 
down the barriers and making it possible for women to 
enter the business world, yet such is the case. About 
thirty years ago the late S. S. Packard of New York City 



COMMERCIAL EDUCATION 55 

took into his business college forty young women, taught 
them stenography and typewriting free of all cost and 
secured them positions in business offices to prove to the 
skeptical world that there was a place in business which 
women could fill. From that time to the present there has 
been a constant and growing demand for female stenog- 
raphers and thousands of them have risen above mere office 
routine to positions of great trust and responsibility, while 
hundreds have launched into business for themselves and 
led other hundreds to do likewise because of their success. 
Thousands of young women have been left alone in the 
world suddenly, many times with children or invalid par- 
ents to support, and found every avenue to an honest liveli- 
hood, except the most menial, closed and sealed in their 
faces excepting the two which are held open by the business 
college — Bookkeeping and Stenography. Even teaching, 
women's ancient and honorable sphere, is tightly closed by 
rigid examination laws and peanut politics. But the business 
college extends encouragement, is untiring in its efforts to 
assist them (in scores of cases asking for no pay until they 
are able to earn it in their positions) and finally places them 
in situations where the rays of hope shine brightly. This 
they do, and for a charge which would be sneered at as a 
beggarly pittance by many schools which talk only of 
"culture" and teach little that is practical. Each year 
thousands of young men and women, many of whom are 
mere . striplings from grammar or district schools, are 
trained in the business colleges to become useful members 
of society and go out into the world independent workers 
where they soon become important cogs in the business 
machine. 

We take the privilege of quoting at this point, from 
an editorial by Orison Swett Harden in Success Magazine 
for June, the following : 

"I believe that the business colleges are among the 
greatest blessings in American civilization to-day, because 
they have saved thousands of homes from being wrecked, 



56 COMMERCIAL EDUCATION 

and have made happy and comfortable tens of thousands 
of people who might otherwise be living in poverty and 
wretchedness." 

Such statements as the above have been brought about 
by the passage of the management of business colleges from 
the hands of the narrow-minded old fogies to the hands of 
progressive men of intelligence, integrity and business skill. 
Young men of broad general education, unbounded enthu- 
siasm, with a wide grasp upon business conditions and 
demands and who are fully awake to the shortcomings (for 
it has shortcomings) of our other educational system, are 
now found in our best business colleges as teachers or prin- 
cipals where they boldly strike out along the lines of prac- 
ticability and fearlessly attack the fallacy of the value of 
of studying certain dead things. 

During the past few years the demands for training in 
the practical subjects, shown by the business colleges to be 
so valuable, have become so great that dignified colleges 
and universities are bending their lines to include such sub- 
jects, while the public high schools quite generally maintain 
popular commercial departments much to the chagrin of 
many principals who mourn because of the "cheapening of 
our educational system." Cheapening, indeed ! Stand by 
the mummies no matter what our boys and girls must do 
for a living! Surely this awakening is nothing if not a 
revolt against the time-honored plan of training us from 
earliest infancy for the learned and polite professions only 
to the absolute exclusion of the demands of life. One 
young man who had started out on a course in the 
"ancients" and saw a life of toil ahead changed to a busi- 
ness college. In a few months he had a situation giving 
brighter promise than he had even hoped for and wrote his 
principal: "I do not regret, in fact I rejoice, that I ex- 
changed my Greek and Latin books for a Shorthand 
Manual." 

Recognition of the commercial subjects by university, 
college and high school has had a powerful tendency to. 



INDUSTRY 57 

attract better people to the business colleges as teachers, 
proprietors and students, and to elevate them in the esti- 
mation of all the people. Many business college principals 
and teachers are among the most alert of all classes for 
ideas that will elevate their profession and schools. Greater 
pains are taken, for instance, by business colleges to secure 
good teachers than are taken by any other class of schools, 
while some are models of enterprise and management. 

There is in the city of Manchester one business college 
whose location, convenient appointments, equipments and 
management place it in a very favorable position among its 
contemporaries. This school was founded in 1900 by its 
principal and proprietor, Mr. J. H. Hesser, and has grown 
in popular esteem until it is now acknowledged by the fra- 
ternity as a leader of northern New England business 
training. Methods originating in this school have been 
adopted in many schools throughout the country while the 
success of its graduates is of the most gratifying kind. A 
visit to this school is well worth the time of any person 
who may be interested in the advancement of young peo- 
ple, while a course in it would certainly prepare any young 
person for an honorable position in the business world. 



Sntmstrp 



Count that hour forever lost 
Which sees no duty done; 

No success without a cost, 
No victory ever won. 



Cfje etiitor'g t^inboto 



The Declaration of Independence, as the average 
school boy who makes hideous the memorable anniversary 
which he is trying to keep alive with his peculiar methods 
knows, was formally adopted by the Continental Congress 
July 4, 1776. Upon July 5 congress adopted the following 
resolution : 

"Resolved, That copies of the Declaration be sent to 
the several assemblies, conventions and councils of safety, 
and to the several commanding officers of the continental 
troops, that it be proclaimed in each of the United States, 
and at the head of the army." 

News traveled so much slower in those days that it 
was over a week before it reached New Hampshire, and it 
was not until the eighteenth instant that the General Court 
of the State, then sitting at Portsmouth, ordered that it be 
read with appropriate ceremonies. Before this day, says 
Belknap, the glad news was proclaimed in every shire town 
in the State by the beat of the drum, so the boys of to-day 
seem to have an example set them which would bear them 
out in their noisy acclaim of the event. 



There is another Fourth of July in American history, 
which, while of a different meaning, makes it an important 
date nearly a hundred and fifty years before the adoption 
of the independence of the colonists. On July 4, 1632, 
only twelve years after the landing of the Pilgrims, and 
nine years after the beginning of the little settlement at 
the mouth of the Piscataqua, when the fate of the Amer- 

58 



the editor's window 59 

ican colonies was scarcely worth the consideration of the 
statesmen, a little band of missionaries moored their frail 
craft under the frowning rock of Quebec. Here they 
remained that night, almost fearing to land. Behind them 
lay the broad St. Lawrence, their only avenue of escape 
had they been desirous of shirking the mission they had 
crossed the ocean to fulfill. On either bank hung the path- 
less wilderness, from out of whose shadowy depths peered 
the dusky features of that primitive race they had come to 
offer the light of the cross. Under the cliff the feeble set- 
tlement was founded by Champlain a quarter of a century 
before. Fathers Paul 1'Jeune and Anne de Houe, with 
a lay brother named Gilbert, landed the following morning 
to begin at once the formation of those missions without 
which New France would have been but a dream. 



Brewster, in his interesting Rambles about Portsmouth, 
tells the following story: An eccentric humorist once lived 
in Portsmouth by the name of Joseph Moses, but familiarly 
called "Doctor Moses." He became so great a favorite 
of Hon. Theodore Atkinson that when the latter was 
appointed a delegate to congress, which met at Albany in 
1754, he took Doctor Moses along with him as a servant. 
Knowing his native wit, his master in the evening would 
call him to the parlor of the hotel, and while he and his 
companions enjoyed the punch bowl he would tell his droll 
stories. But with his humor Doctor Moses possessed an 
impudence and air of importance which at times became 
offensive. Upon one of these occasions he became so im- 
pertinent as to say to his honorable patron: "You ain't fit 
to carry garbage to a bear." " Man, you are too bold," 
exclaimed Mr. Atkinson. " I cannot listen to such words 
from you. You must either recall your remark or quit my 
service." " I will take back all I have said," replied the 
joker quickly. " Your are fit!" Nothing could be said to 
this, and the subject was dropped. 



60 the editor's window 

Our contributor, G. B. G., offers the following brace of 
stories : 

Clergymen are supposed to have a peculiar talent for 
"improving" the occasion. How one of them did this 
among the Granite Hills in a witty and, let us hope, an 
edifying though rather pointed manner, has been related to 
us by a friend. 

In early life he had met with an accident which left 
him with a broken nose, a deformity about which, in spite 
of his piety, he was known to be a little sensitive. One 
day a new inquirer propounded the old question : 

"How happened you to break your nose?" 

The minister answered solemnly : 

"To tell the truth, my friend, the accident was caused 
by my poking my nose into other people's business." 



The concerts of the Hutchinson Family — now reduced 
by the Great Reaper, Death, to a single representative, and 
he more than eighty-five years of age — were always a 
delight to me in boyhood, full of sweet harmony and realis- 
tic action. They "came from the mountains of New 
Hampshire " (Milford village, near the birthplace of Horace 
Greeley), and were a remarkable band of accomplished 
brothers and sisters. 

One occasion may be remembered by the few now 
living at Portsmouth — "Strawberry Bank," which may illus- 
trate the spirited character of their evening performances. 
They were singing "The Fireman's Call," in the medley of 
which they shouted, " Fire! Fire !" with such effect as not 
only to bring one of the sedate citizens to his feet, but to 
cause him to make a rush through the crowded aisles of 
the house for the door, declaring that he belonged to 
"No. 6." 






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Cfje Comb of ^tarfe 



By Henry W. Hsrrick 



HW° TRAPPINGS of state their bri S ht honors unfolding, 
Sfl No gorgeous display, marks the place of thy rest; 
But the granite points out where thy body lies 
mouldering, 
And the wild-rose is shedding its sweets o'er thy breast. 



The zephyrs of evening shall sport with the willow, 
And play through the grass where the flowerets creep, 

While the thoughts of the brave, as he bends o'er thy pillow, 
Shall hallow the spot of the hero's last sleep. 

As from glory and honor to death thou descended, 
Twas meet thou shouldst lie, by the Merrimack's wave, 

It was well thou shouldst sleep 'mongst the hills thou defended, 
And take thy last rest in so simple a grave. 

There forever thou'lt sleep, and though ages roll o'er thee, 
And crumble the stone o'er thy ashes to earth, 

The pride of the free shall with reverence adore thee, 
The pride of the mountains, that gave thee thy birth. 

61 






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45ramte Jkate |t§ap?tne 

Vol. II. AUGUST, 1906. No. 2. 



C^on. Samuel 2£lobget 

How He Built the Amoskeag Canal 

By George Waldo Browne 

f^kJ.ETURNING from his trip abroad in the summer of 
^ifiyi 1787, Judge Blodget opened a general store in 
^4£2& Haverhill, Mass., in September. He continued in 
this store for three years, though his active mind 
would not allow him to confine himself exclusively to trade. 
In 1788 he established a stage line between that town and 
Boston, which was run regularly for two or three years, 
under his control. This appears to be the first coach line 
in that vicinity and one of the first in the country. Meet- 
ing with good success in that venture, he with others estab- 
lished another line connecting Haverhill with Concord this 
state, though this did not become permanent. In the 
three years in trade he had so far recovered his shattered 
fortune as to start a duck manufactory in 1790, which was 
very successful. He was elected representative to the legis- 
lature from Haverhill in 1791, and was again at the height 
of prosperity, but his restless, ambitious spirit was not sat- 
isfied. The proposition of the Middlesex canal, which had 
originated with Hon. James Sullivan, was an absorbing 
theme of conversation everywhere in business circles. 
That was a period of rapid improvement. # Boston was 
becoming a thriving town of twenty thousand inhabitants, 
and there were suburbs that only needed the stimulus of 
trade to give them place and power. The valley of the 

63 



64 HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 

Merrimack, far up into New Hampshire, even the country 
into Vermont, if sparsely settled, promised a rich harvest 
of trade to the centers which could draw it. Better means 
of communication became the great question of the day. 
Turnpikes, under the control of corporations, were the 
main arteries of business. Moved by slow-going ox teams, 
over these priced highways, the transportation of the coun- 
try produce, lumber, firewood and building material became 
at once tedious and costly. Once such a maritime highway 
as the Merrimack offered was opened, the producer and 
consumer must both be benefited by the result. Judge 
Blodget realized that the Middlesex canal was a foregone 
conclusion, and he believed it was time for him to carry out 
the pet project of his life. Though he had arrived at that 
age when most men are laying aside the cares and responsi- 
bilities of business, he formed his plans with the sanguine- 
ness of a young man with the world all before him. In 
fact it was his happy belief that he was yet in his prime. 
He had lived a perfectly abstemious life, and with a careful 
husbanding of his strength he confidentially looked for- 
ward to a hundred years of activity. 

In 1793 he took up his residence on the east bank of 
the Merrimack below the falls. He purchased land here 
and laid every calculation toward performing his herculean 
task, confident it could be done within his own resources. 

May 2, a date worthy of remembrance, along with that 
of- another May day thirteen years later, he opened work 
upon his canal, making considerable progress during the 
season in blasting and constructing a dam to afford a pond. 
Work was not begun upon the Middlesex canal until Sep- 
tember 10 of the same year, so he was over four months 
ahead of Sullivan's enterprise. In September, 1794, he 
leased his "Duck Factory standing in a lane near Kimball 
Carleton's in said Haverhill to David Blackburn of the same 
town, weaver, James Alexander late of Newbury port, 
weaver, and Isaac Schofield of Newbury port, weaver." 
This lease was for two years, but he continued to let this 



HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 65 

property until 1799, when his affairs became so deeply- 
involved it was set off on execution in favor of Samuel 
Parkman of Boston. With the leasing of his business in 
Haverhill Judge Blodget may be said to have concentrated 
all of his energy and capital in pushing the work on his 
canal. On May 18, 1795, he had so far advanced with the 
stone work that Col. William Adams of Londonderry, a 
skilled carpenter, was employed to begin upon the wood- 
work. 

During the year of 1795, with every prospect of a suc- 
cessful ending of his work on Amoskeag canal, Judge 
Blodget proposed the scheme of making the Merrimack 
navigable to Lake Winnipesaukee, thus preparing a direct 
highway, or rather waterway, of commerce through the 
then most populous section of New Hampshire, affording 
a direct intercourse with Boston. The plan seemed to 
meet with favor wherever it became known, and it was so 
far developed that Colonel McGregor of Goffstown and 
Major Duncan of Concord consented to construct the locks 
and canals around Hooksett Falls, while other equally reli- 
able men of this state and Massachusetts were to complete 
the work above that place. In order to satisfy himself of 
the perfect feasibility of the project and to prove the same 
to others, he made a trip of examination. 

While the report was favorable toward carrying out 
the project, it was never undertaken except to make the 
river navigable as far as Concord, owing to the fact that 
JudgeJBlodget soon found he had all on his hands he could 
accomplish. 

If the prospect appeared so fair to the ambitious pro- 
moter, eight years of anxious toil and endeavor lay before him 
— eight years such as, fortunately, only a few are called upon 
to meet. In a way, his own inventive mind worked him 
harm rather than good. He had devised a check-gate to 
assist in opening the way between the locks, which he had 
anticipated would be regulated by the pressure of the boat 
passing through the canal. But the power which he had 



66 HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 

expected would assist his undertaking destroyed it, through 
the great speed gained by the boat or raft coming down 
the way. The invention cost him twenty thousand dollars, 
and a freshet in June, 1798, completed the ruin of five 
years of diligent labor. 

Still hopeful, though his own fortune was depleted, 
Judge Blodget began to raise money by lottery, the com- 
mon method of securing large sums in those days, obtained 
a charter for his canal, and the following spring resumed 
work. But disappointments and discouragements still con- 
fronted him. Each movement he made cost more than had 
been expected; new obstacles constantly arose in his path- 
way. Impatient to see something actually accomplished 
from the money they had risked in the enterprise many 
began to complain that he had used the money for his pri- 
vate good. A new house he had recently built, it was 
claimed, had been constructed from their money. His 
enemies, and there were plenty of them now, looked upon 
his work with envy bordering upon hatred and undertook 
to stop him. In 1803, having remained silent as long as he 
felt prudent, he made a public statement from which it 
appeared that not only had he expended the five thousand 
dollars afforded by the lottery, but he had actually used 
seven thousand dollars besides, which had been put in from 
his own property and the subscriptions of friends. If crip- 
pled in his own means and at odds with those who had in a 
considerable measure his fortune in their hands, the public 
was in sympathy with him. In fact, however visionary his 
schemes may have seemed, however obstinate his enemies 
may have been against him, and however straitened his cir- 
cumstances, the common people were always his friends. 
They advocated his project now and everywhere sounded 
his praise. For him to fail would, in their minds, prove a 
public calamity. If New Hampshire was indirectly against 
assisting him, the legislature of Massachusetts, realizing 
that that state was going to receive great benefits from 
trade through the completion of Blodget's canal, voted in 



HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 67 

March, 1804, the grant of a lottery to raise ten thousand 
dollars to be expended under the direction of Colonel Bald- 
win, who had made the survey for the new route in 1798. 
The following June the New Hampshire legislature passed 
"An act to extend the time which was allowed Samuel 
Blodget for drawing a lottery," granted July 18, 1802. It 
now began to appear certain that Judge Blodget had fallen 
into the hands of those who hoped to profit by his failure, 
men who hoped through his age and many setbacks he 
would be obliged to give up his project, and leaving it in an 
unfinished condition, make the way for them to get posses- 
sion at a low rate. They had misjudged their man. While 
the Massachusetts lottery gave slow and uncertain returns, 
allowing Colonel Baldwin to make slow progress through 
the year 1805, the judge kept persistently and everlastingly 
at it. September 4, 1805, work had to be entirely sus- 
pended, but he roused new interest that winter by the pub- 
lication of a document setting forth in convincing terms the 
good to result from the completion of his canal, showing 
that during the season just past only ten and a half tons 
passed through the Middlesex canal in excess of the amount 
that came through Blodget's slip. He closed by declaring 
that "the people of all descriptions in the country and in 
Boston and its vicinity would rejoice to see the completion 
of Blodget's canal." 

The result was most satisfactory. March 14, 1806, the 
Massachusetts legislature granted a second lottery in aid of 
the Blodget canal. Active men taking hold this time, the 
avails of this summer were sufficient, with what had been 
raised by the New Hampshire lottery, to warrant the re- 
sumption of work in the latter part of the summer. Encour- 
aged in every respect work was pushed with such vigor that 
a few days before Christmas, in December, 1806, Blodget's 
locks and canals were a reality. After twelve years and 
almost eight months of such trials, hard work, expenditure 
of money and disappointments as few men, younger than 
he, could have battled so bravely to the end, Samuel 



68 HON. SAMUEL BRODGET 

Blodget had triumphed over enemies and such obstacles as 
must have crushed a less determined and enthusiastic 
spirit. 

As it was then too late in the season to open the canal, 
May Day of the coming year was set for the happy affair. 
During the winter he busied himself with straightening his 
accounts and in preparing to meet the managers of the 
first New Hampshire lottery by a board of arbiters. Thus 
he was allowed no rest, though he was borne up by the 
thoughts of that day which was to witness the public 
acknowledgment of his triumph. 

The morning of May I, 1807, the proudest day of 
Judge Blodget's long and eventful life, and the grandest 
day in the history of Manchester, came with the smiling 
sky and genial atmosphere of the fairest season of the year. 

At an early hour the people began to collect about the 
scene, eager, curious, expectant. Those came out of mere 
curiosity to see the man of whom they had heard so much 
for and against, those came to see the wonderful locks and 
the canal which he had devised to set at defiance the great 
laws of Nature, those came to scoff and to jeer at the 
visionary schemer who had squandered his own patrimony 
and sunk in an enterprise as vain as it was wold of con- 
ception the money of friend and stranger, those came to 
praise and admire the brave, courageous promoter of the 
public welfare and prosperity, and to laud his name to the 
sky should his dreams at last prove true, few came with a 
dim, vague gleam of the swift, marvelous transformation 
the matchless perseverance of one man was to bring to the 
unpromising scene about them, many came to cheer when 
convinced by their own eyes that it was not all some mad 
hoax, as many came to express their contempt in yells of 
derision should it after all prove a failure. 

In the midst of the impatience of the spectators, the 
venerable projector of the great work, showing traces of 
the care and trouble through which he had passed, but with 
head erect and an eye undaunted, a man with a wonderfully 



HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 69 

vigorous bearing for one in his eighty-fourth year, Judge 
Blodget rode upon the scene in his old-style, two-wheeled 
carriage. There was a general uncovering of heads as he 
drove to the head of the canal and alighted. Then a deep 
silence fell on the crowd, while he stepped upon the raft 
with a few friends. The gate was opened and, while friend 
and enemy looked on with spellbound interest, the rude 
craft with its human freight glided safely down the passage- 
way and out upon the river below. The silence then was 
broken, tumultuous applause rang on the air, the most 
adverse unable to withstand the happy outburst of spirit, 
until the huzzas fairly drowned the roar of old Amoskeag. 
Modest in his triumphs, yet with a heart overflowing with 
thanksgiving, Judge Blodget rode down to his home, saying 
as he stepped down from his chaise: "I am well paid. My 
canal is complete. I have but one object to live for now. 
Let my difficulties with the managers be settled before the 
arbiters, and I die content." 

The settlement of his accounts with the lottery man- 
agers was to take place in Haverhill July I, and until then 
he kept as busy as ever getting ready to support his claims. 
On that day he appeared before the arbiters as keen and 
firm in his manner as ever, to be met with the respectful 
attention that he deserved. But it was his last appearance 
in public. Riding home on the third, the weather being 
extremely cold for the season and he thinly clad, he took a 
severe cold, so that upon reaching his home he was obliged 
to seek his bed. As this was the first severe illness of his 
life, so it was his last, for on September i, 1807, he sank 
into that sleep which he had so well earned. His funeral 
according to his own request was simple, after which he 
was borne to the ancient cemetery near the Falls, his grave 
marked by a plain headstone. Later, when the encroach- 
ments of a growing city required it, the remains were 
removed to a place of sepulture in the southwest corner of 
the Valley cemetery, a plain, enduring granite monolith 
marking the spot. On the west face is this inscription : 



TO HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 

To the Memory of 

HON. SAMUEL BLODGET, 

Born at Woburn, Mass., 

April i, 1724. 

Died at Manchester, 

(Then Derryfield,) 

Sept. 1, 1807. 

The north face has this : The Pioneer of internal Im- 
provements in New Hampshire. The Projector and 
Builder of the Amoskeag Canal. 

The south side has this explanatory note : Erected by 
His Great-Grandson, Joseph Henry Stickney, of Balti- 
more, Md., 1868. 

The children of Samuel and Hannah (White) Blodget 
were an active and noted family. 

Sarah, born in Haverhill, Mass., October 27, 1749, 
married Capt. Stephen Perkins of Amesbury, where she 
lived and died. 

Abigail, born in Haverhill, Mass., April 20, 175 1, mar- 
ried Thomas Stickney of Haverhill, where they lived and 
died. Their son, Thomas, managed the Blodget estate 
after the death of the judge, and no doubt would have car- 
ried out the business at the canal successfully had his 
health permitted. 

Nathan, born in Goffstown, N. H., February 9, 1753, 
was for a time a merchant in Boston, in company with a 
brother-in-law, but afterwards went to Philadelphia, where 
he died. 

• Mary, born in Goffstown December 1, 1754, married 
Samuel Gilman, who was in business with Nathan, 1780-90, 
in Boston. 

William, born in Goffstown July 6, 1756, died in 
infancy. 

Samuel, Jr., born in Goffstown August 28, 1757, mar- 
ried for his first wife Dorothy, daughter of Gen. Nathaniel 



HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 71 

Folsom, After a brief military career he went into busi- 
ness in Exeter, N. H., which did not prove successful. He 
next engaged in the East India trade in Boston, which 
proved profitable, and in 1789 he moved to Philadelphia, 
where his wife died the following year. Here he estab- 
lished the Insurance Company of North America, and in 
1792 married Rebecca, a daughter of Rev. William Smith, 
D. D., Provost of the Philadelphia University. In 1791-92 
he bought a large tract of land in the future territory of 
Washington, D. C, building in 1795, at the same time his 
father was building his mansion at Manchester, the first 
house in Washington, and which was occupied for a time 
by President Adams and family while the White House 
was being completed. He also built another house of his- 
torical note, which he named the Union Pacific Hotel, 
which stood on the site of the present post-office depart- 
ment, and which was bought by the government in 18 10 
and used as a "general post-office," until 1836, when it was 
burned. After the burning of the capitol by the British in 
1 814, Congress met in it for a time. He was interested in 
many schemes to benefit the National Capital and gener- 
ously gave a large fortune to help build up the future city. 
He died in 18 14, leaving a large property in trust for his 
family. 

Caleb, born in Goffstown August 17, 1759, served as 
ensign in the Continental Army in 1779, and lieutenant in 
1781. He was lost overboard from a "Gunning float near 
Hogg Island," August 9, 1789, and was buried in Boston. 
He was unmarried. 

Elizabeth, born in Goffstown January 12, 1761, died 
unmarried December 23, 1778. 

William, born in Goffstown December 18, 1762, mar- 
ried Sarah, daughter of Major-General John Stark. 

Benjamin, born in Goffstown July 6, 1768. He was 
concerned with his brother Samuel in the Washington pur- 
chase. He died at Derryfield, unmarried. 



72 HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 

Upon the death of Judge Blodget, his grandson, 
Thomas Stickney, a promising young man, then living in 
Boston, came to Derryfield to complete the work of open- 
ing the river to better facilities for navigation. In 1810 the 
New Hampshire legislature granted a lottery for the benefit 
of the Blodget heirs that they might finish the work begun 
by him. Thomas Stickney started the first manufacturing 
industry other than the saw and grist mills on the Merri- 
mack at this place, and in 1810 was chairman of the com- 
mittee to change the name of Derryfield to Manchester, 
out of respect to the oft-repeated prophecy of his grand- 
father that this would be the "Manchester of America." 
Had he had his health and lived to carry out his intentions, 
he might have realized some of the benefits likely to accrue 
from the efforts of Judge Blodget, but he was suffering 
from an acute disease which terminated his life in 1814, 
July 13, and was buried in Granary Burial Ground in 
Boston. This left no one to look after the family interest, 
and the canal passed into the possession of the Merrimack 
Boating Company organized in Boston. Its first boat came 
up in October, 1814. 

In summing up the life work and character of Samuel 
Blodget we must take into consideration, to do him entire 
justice, not only the result of his long and arduous toils 
and trials, but the peculiar condition and circumstances of 
his surroundings. Capital was not easily found to advance 
any enterprise of the most simple order, the spirit of prog- 
ress had not been awakened in the hearts of a people which 
had not fully recovered from such a period of struggle for 
their civil rights as had necessarily put in the background 
all thoughts of bettering their financial condition. The art 
of mechanics was not understood and engineers were lack- 
ing to attempt a work of the kind. There had been no 
undertaking of the sort worth mentioning in the country, 
and those naturally looked with askance upon it who did 
not understand it. What modern resources with modern 
knowledge of mechanics have done, with modern corpora- 



HON. SAMUEL BLODGET 73 

tions to carry on the work, Samuel Blodget, alone and 
unaided, with such capital as he had individually accumu- 
lated in a time when big estates were unknown, set himself 
resolutely to do. If he was a visionary schemer, as his 
enemies delighted to style him, he was of that nature which 
has given us all of our great pioneers of progress. If a 
dreamer he was of the kind of Gouverneur Morris, who in 
1806, suggested the Erie canal, scarcely of more importance 
than the Amoskeag canal, nor of greater magnitude of 
enterprise when the time of its construction and the wealth 
behind it are placed in comparison with Blodget's project. 
If he was ambitious of success, it was that ambition which 
made him a public benefactor without redounding to his 
personal greed or gain. 

The record of his whole life is ample evidence that he 
never wronged any one. In fact, if he had a fault, if that 
which borders upon a virtue can be styled a shortcoming, 
it was in placing too much confidence in others. In his 
own open, free-hearted, hospitable nature, he believed 
others to possess the honesty of purpose which was the 
ruling star of his life. He is described as having a sturdy 
figure, a little over five and nine inches in height, a full, 
round countenance inclined to floridness, blue eyes and 
brown hair, a fluent talker, genial in his intercourse and a 
man of strong personal magnetism, which never failed to 
draw about him a large circle of warm friends. He was 
rigidly temperate in his manner of living, using no ardent 
spirits, active in his pursuits, and usually lodged in a large 
room with windows open on both sides of his bed, regard- 
less of the weather, and was always sanguine of success in 
whatever he undertook. By following these simple rules 
he believed he would live to be one hundred years old. 
No doubt they did sustain him through his arduous work, 
but that scantiness of clothing, in which he believed, was 
one cause of catching cold on his last ride from Haverhill, 
which in his over-taxed condition of body and mind, 
resulted in his death at a time when he was on the eve of 



74 HE AND I 

seeing realized the prophecy of his dreams. But if others 
were to carry out the work he had planned, to reap the har- 
vest of the field he had sown, it was his far-seeing brain, 
his long life of devotion to the laying of its foundation, his 
accumulated means, his undaunted spirit which made it all 
possible. The golden years of his life were a sacrifice in 
the interest of the development of the power of that river 
which has done so much for the Granite State ; his memory 
should be reverenced in every heart that has love for our 
growing institutions, his name should be fixed imperishably 
with her history; and his sturdy figure in bronze or granite 
stand on one of our public squares as a perpetual reminder 
of him who has been fitly described as the Pioneer of 
Progress. 



#e anfci % 

By Alice King 

Down in the yellow bay, 
A boy and girl at play, 

He and I ; 
Across the sea spring sunbeams glancing, 
White waves in airy state advancing, 
Joy in our light hearts dancing, 

While hours slip by. 

Down in the yellow bay, 
A youth and maiden gay, 

He and I ; 
Upon the sea the summer sleeping, 
Up to the shore the soft waves creeping, 
Time to our young love keeping, 

While hours flash by. 

Down in the yellow bay, 
We took our cheerless way, 

He and I; 
The shivering autumn wept and wondered, 
As on the shore the wild waves thundered 
We knew that we were sundered, 

While hours rushed by. 

Down in the yellow bay, 
There wandered yesterday, 

Not he, but I; 
Chill winter on the cold sea lying, 
Upon the shore the long waves sighing, 
An old grey woman crying. 

While hours wore by. 




Granite ^tate Ctooftreesi 

IV 

Historic Houses of Warner (Continued)* 

By Frederick Myron Colby 

HE oldest house in Warner Village is the present 
Warner House, on Main street, known in my boy- 
hood days as the Doctor Eaton stand. The 
house is one hundred and thirty-one years old, having been 
built in 1785 by Capt. Asa Pattee, who came to Warner 
soon after the close of the Revolution and erected this 
structure. It was the first frame house built in the center 
village, and remained the only one for several years. Cap- 
tain Pattee was a licensed taverner and used his house as a 
hotel during his life. Daniel Whitman, who succeeded 
Captain Pattee in the occupancy of the house, also kept it 
open to the public, as did Capt. Joseph Smith, till 181 1, 
when he discontinued it as a tavern and a hostelry and 
made it his private residence. 

The house is a two-story structure, with a large L, 
built of heavy pine timber. Part of the second story was 
used for a large hall for dancing and for public assemblies. 
On the 4th of March, 1828, when President Jackson was 
first inaugurated, the citizens of Warner held a mass meet- 
ing and a dinner in this hall. Quite a graphic account was 
published in Hill's old New Hampshire Patriot the following 
week, a copy of which is before me as I write. Dinner was 
provided for the crowd by Elliot C. Badger, and all the 
neighboring towns had been ransacked for turkeys, and the 
services of the best cooks enlisted a week beforehand. In 



* See Vol. I, page 177. 

75 



76 GRANITE STATE ROOFTREES 

the evening there was a dance and a supper, the latter 
being served by Benjamin Evans and his friends. It was 
one of the grand occasions in the history of the town. 

Warner was then and for a long time afterwards the 
banner Democratic town of the State, and all of its lead- 
ing citizens were Democrats. Squire Benjamin Evans, 
who played so important a part at the function above re- 
ferred to, was a state senator that year and was afterwards 
high sheriff of the county and a member of Governor Hill's 
Council. Dr. Caleb Buswell, who owned and occupied 
this house at that time, was a representative of the town 
and the surgeon of the Fortieth Regiment of the New 
Hampshire Militia. Dr. Leonard Eaton, who was then a 
student of 'Doctor Buswell's and who succeeded him in the 
occupancy of the house, was also a state senator as well as 
a representative to the General Court. Somewhere about 
1890 the old house became a public tavern again and con- 
tinues to be a place of good cheer to-day. In the spring of 
1905 the adjoining barn and stable were destroyed by fire, 
and the house narrowly escaped destruction. 

The venerable old house must be one of the oldest 
hostelries in the State. But it is well preserved and seems 
likely to welcome the wayfarer for many years to come. 
In the main part of the house is one of the old-fashioned 
chimneys, about ten by twelve feet square, and there are 
great, roomy fireplaces in several of the rooms. What 
stories the old hostelry could tell were its walls gifted with 
utterance of that ancient time when the great, six-horse 
coach from Boston to Windsor used to draw up before its 
door and unload its passengers ! What well-known men it 
has sheltered and what rare bumpers have been drunk at its 
bar. Its rooms breathe of the aroma of the past, and we 
hope it may long remain to welcome the stranger beneath 
. its hospitable roof. 

Probably the next oldest building in Warner Village 
is the stately old mansion, known far and wide, to the last 
generation as the Squire Porter house. It is at least a 



HISTORIC HOUSES OF WARNER 77 

hundred years old, being erected in 1805 by Jacob Davis, a 
son of Wells Davis and a grandson of Francis Davis, the 
pioneer. Jacob Davis was a captain in the old state militia 
and was a man of note in the early part of the last century. 
He set out the huge elms in front of the Upton block, 
bringing them on his shoulders when young shoots from 
what is now called the North road. His wife was a sister 
to Mrs. James Bean, who built the Robinson house a few 
years later. Mr. Bean and his wife were married in the 
parlor of this house in 181 1, it being probably the first mar- 
riage to occur in the Center Village. After living here sev- 
eral years Mr. Davis sold to Dr. Moses Long and removed 
to the Waterloo district. 

Doctor Long was the first historian of the town, and 
his "Historical Sketches" have a high value. He was a 
brother of the famous Col. Stephen H. Long, and came 
from Hopkinton. Doctor Long sold to Nathan S. Colby, 
who built the adjacent store, now the Jewell and Lewis 
stand, and also managed the village hotel across the way. 
Colby was an active, stirring man, was much in town affairs 
and was a state senator and a Van Buren elector in 1836. 
The next occupant of the old house was the Hon. Benjamin 
Evans, previously referred to, and who, after Squire Chase, 
was the most prominent and noteworthy man in town. He 
was the father-in-law of Nathan S. Colby, and another son- 
in-law, Squire Reuben Porter, succeeded Evans in the 
ownership of the house. Gilman C. George, cashier of the 
old National Bank and treasurer of the Kearsarge Savings 
Bank, purchased the place in 1882, and it is now the home 
of his son-in-law, Fred Myron Colby. 

The ancient house has an aristocratic look, reposing 
under the shadow of its tall elms, and has a wide and well- 
kept lawn. The house has fifteen rooms and four tall 
chimneys. One of its rooms is wainscoted, and several of 
them retain the ancient cornices and moldings. The cel- 
lars have stone floorings and are rat -proof. In old Squire 
Ben Evans' day, on the night previous to the annual elec- 



78 GRANITE STATE ROOFTREES 

tions, he would have the rooms crowded with voters, and 
when a man became too drunk for business he was bolted 
downstairs till he became sober. This of course was in the 
good old ante-Washingtonian days. Ben Evans ruled the 
town politically for many years, and he had a larger num- 
ber of devoted followers than any other public man ever 
had in Warner. His sons-in-law (he had five daughters who 
married citizens of Warner), though able and influential 
men, never exercised such power as was wielded by Squire 
Ben Evans for forty years of his active life. 

Remote from the village some three or four miles, on 
the road that leads to Kearsarge Mountain and about a mile 
from the "gateway," so called, where the new road begins 
that conducts to the summit of the mountain, there stands 
an old, unpainted farmhouse, untenanted and fast falling to 
decay. The storms of nearly a century have beaten upon 
its roof and its weather-stained clapboards tell of the pas- 
sage of the years. Located in a wild and romantic place, it 
is well worth a visit, if only for its picturesque sur- 
roundings. 

This weather-beaten structure, which only a few years 
ago was an inhabited and comfortable farmhouse, is one of 
the most interesting relics of a former age that there is in 
the township, and perhaps has seen more of life in its 
various phases and vicissitudes than any other building in 
town. In its day and generation it has been successively 
a school-house, a town house, a church and a dwelling, and 
connected with it is a bit of old-time history — the story of 
an interesting epoch and a romantic incident in the annals 
of the town. Few who pass it by are aware of the place it 
has filled in the past, of those exciting days when Warner 
Gore was a township by itself, and this building was the 
center of the little world that congregated around the his- 
toric mountain. 

For thirty years or more Kearsarge Gore was a busy 
and prosperous little community. In 1800 its population 
numbered nearly two hundred souls. By 181 1 the popula- 



HISTORIC HOUSES OF WARNER 79 

tion had fallen off to one hundred and twenty-five. This 
was owing to the fact that the north part of the Gore had 
been taken off to form part of the town of Wilmot, organ- 
ized in 1807. But even after this the Gore was a bustling 
and enterprising borough and contributed its quota to the 
history of the State. Several of its citizens were well-to- 
do and competent men, and ambition found its votaries in 
the little township as elsewhere. The inhabitants met 
annually, elected their town officers, and conducted in many 
respects like an organized town. In 181 1 the Gore was 
permitted to have a voice, through her representative, in 
the legislative halls of the State, being classed that year 
with Wilmot. The annual meetings were held at this old 
house, which was then the school-house of the district. 

One of these elections was particularly stormy and 
resulted in the election of two representatives, though the 
two towns were entitled to but one. It seems that at an 
earlier hour than the one set for the organization of the 
meeting, the Gore party, setting forward the nearest clock 
there was, hastened to the polls and elected a certain Jason 
Watkins as representative. An hour later, as the voters 
came in from the other side of the mountain in their sleighs 
and pungs — via Smith's Corner, Googin's Mills and Birch 
Hill, they treated this previous action as a nullity. All 
through that March day the contending factions swayed to 
and fro, and the house was in an uproar. John Palmer was 
the moderator of the day and Jason Watkins was the clerk, 
both being Gore men, but as the sun went down on the 
scene of conflict, Gen. Eliphalet Gay of Wilmot was 
declared the candidate for representative to the General 
court. It was a day long remembered in the annals both of 
the Gore and Wilmot. 

The last election ever held in this house or in the Gore 
was on March 10, 1818, for by an act of the legislature of 
the State, approved on June 13 of that year, Kearsarge 
Gore was annexed to and made forever thereafter part and 



80 GRANITE STATE ROOFTREES 

parcel of the town of Warner. The last vote ever given in 
the Gore as a municipal organization reads as follows: 

"Voted to have meetings of worship in the school- 
house." 

So the old house which had been erected for a school- 
house in 1807, an d which for eleven years had been used 
also as the town house of the borough, became now a place 
of prayer and worship, as well as a hall of learning. These 
meetings were regularly held there till 1825, when a new 
school-house was built farther up the highway, and Stephen 
Stanley bought the house and made it into a dwelling 
house, erected an L, a barn and sheds, and raised there a 
family of children. His son, Benjamin Stanley, lived there 
all his life and died there in 190 1. His widow resided there 
a year or two after his death, but the place is now deserted 
and rapidly going to decay. 

It is to be regretted that the mutations of time should 
be allowed to destroy so interesting a landmark. In front 
of it used to muster the military company of the Gore a 
hundred years ago, under its captain, Jonathan Watkins, 
as they came out for inspection and duty twice a year. 
From its dooryard, in the year 18 10, Captain Watkins 
marched to meet the Wilmot company for drill and exercise 
on the top of Kearsarge Mountain. Toward the close of 
the summer day the two companies were brought face to 
face on the very summit of the mountain, and there, two 
thousand feet higher than Hooker's celebrated battle 
"above the clouds," on Lookout Mountain, a "sham fight" 
of great spirit was indulged in. According to tradition, 
there had been considerable of the ardent drank by the 
men of both companies and, as those of the Wilmot side 
had drunk the larger portion, the victory of the day rested 
with the hardy troopers of the Gore. 



3ln J^otfjer'g 4£lb <0arben 



By George Bancroft Griffith 



. Hallowed by prayerful communings, 
Here where she whispered to God, 

I stand at the eventide holy 

In the garden my mother once trod ! 

Here where she blessed me and kissed me 
All tearful, I'm kneeling once more, 

And in spirit she seems to be near me, 
Her first bom, to soothe as of yore. 

O mother! from hedges and highways, 
From over the trackless blue sea, 

Your boy to the old home returning, 
Is thinking, dear mother, of thee ! 

In the paths where you wandered at twilight, 
In the bower whose roses you trained, 

By the trellis your white fingers fashioned, 
O, would that your presence remained. 



And, indeed, though in flesh you are absent, 
I feel that, as an angel of light, 

With eyes O so love-lit and dewy, 
You hover beside me to-night ! 



81 



82 in mother's old garden 



Come, seraph of glory, I murmur, 
I walk in the garden you trod ; 

I touch the bright flowers you nurtured, 
Perfumed by the breath of our God. 



Though sweet are their fragrance and precious, 
For me, in your heart's inmost shrine 

You treasured a love everlasting, 
A spark which was surely divine ! 



And so, in the eventide's quiet, 
I walk in this garden alone, 

Yet feel that it is not forsaken, 
For hither her spirit has flown. 



From the world with its rushing and turmoil 

I'm now for a moment apart ; 
Like the hush in a temple of worship 

The stillness appeals to my heart. 




A Plain Tale of Plain People, Some of Whom You May Have 
Known, All of Whom Lived a Third of a Century Ago 

By George Waldo Browne 
^Copyright. 1906, by the Author] 

What shadows we are and what shadows we pursue ! — Burke, 



CHAPTER III 

THE LIVING TOMBSTONE 
Hell watch an' he'll wait with a patience sublime. — Eugene Hall. 




HE Prodigal and his companion turned abruptly at 
fcSp3[ the opening of this strange speech, given at the 
* ?* close of Chapter I, to discover the speaker stand- 
ing in a distant corner of the yard, at the head of a low 
mound of earth, with his arms outstretched, so that with 
his body and head they formed a living cross, at that moment 
as immovable as if made out of wood. Half-hidden by the 
intervening headstones, his position was such it was no 
wonder they had not seen him before, especially as he had 
done nothing until this moment to attract their attention. 
He was a youth of possibly eighteen years, his tall, 
ungainly figure clothed in a suit that had apparently been 
discarded by some shorter and smaller person, after having 
filled a long contract with its original owner. So worn 
and faded were the garments that the back of the coat, 

83 



84 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

with its rents and tatters, presented a vivid impression of 
the map of the Western Hemisphere, there being just 
about cloth enough left to show the shores of the land. 
His features, freckled and sunburned, were not prepossess- 
ing, but bore the stamp of honest simplicity. He did not 
appear to see them. 

"Hallo, there, youngster!" called out Reuben Rover, 
as I shall continue to call him until I have reasons for giv- 
ing him another name;" who are you and what are you 
doing here?" 

"A pauper is poor only in his poverty of friends," was 
the indirect reply. 

"Whoever he is and whatever he is doing here, he has 
a strong element of poetry in him," whispered Leonard 
Quiver. "I couldn't make a better alliteration myself." 

"What fakir performance are you trying?" demanded 
Rover, with more sternness than before. 

"Who drops a penny here helps to pay for a tombstone 
to a man who deserved better things than a neglected grave 
from those whom he trusted not wisely but too well." 

"I should think he had a living tombstone now," de- 
clared the other, "which is more unique and faithful than 
the Newbegin monument of stone. There is more truth in 
its epitaph than in all of these lying headstones about us." 

At this remark, tinged with satire and bitterness as it 
were, the youth cast his first direct glance toward the 
speaker and his companion, showing gratitude in his looks, 
though he remained as motionless as ever, saying in his 
even, dreary tone : 

"All men are equal in death, and no one should be 
judged by the size of his monument." 

"Who lies in the grave at your feet, young man ?" 
asked Rover. 

"My father, sir." 

"What was his name?" 

"Joel Harvester." 

"What! 'Easy-said Joe* Harvester?" to quickly add, as 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 85 

if to divert the attention from what he had said: "I take it 
you are trying to raise in this unusual way a subscription to 
buy him a gravestone?" 

The youth simply nodded his head while keeping his 
body as rigid as ever. 

"How much have you got toward it?" 

"Sixty-two cents, not counting a handful of shingle 
nails, two yaller punkins, and a yard of braided onions." 

"How long have you been collecting this munificent 
donation?" 

"A week and two days." 

"Shade of Moses ! you haven't met with a very flatter- 
ing success. That may be due to the weather, and it may 
be to your location. How would it do for you to move to 
some more central place? I hail it as a misfortune to you, 
and a source of regret to us, that we have come at an inop- 
portune time. The fact is our available funds are low; that 
is, like yours, our bank is too far removed from the center 
of gravitation. But banks come and go. Say, young man, 
it is too bad for you to lose so much time that must be val- 
uable, to say nothing of the hardship and exposure you 
have to endure. So I will come to your assistance, and you 
may consider your object gained. I will take the responsi- 
bility to rear a stone to the memory of your father that 
shall be better than that reared to mark the grave of Moses, 
the meekest man that ever lived." 

The blank countenance of the youth suddenly light- 
ened, and he asked, joyfully: 

"Shall it be as good as that of Justin Jones ?" 

"Yes ; or any other Jones that is passing his halcyon 
days beneath this mantle of sand." 

It was clear that the boy had only a faint conception of 
the meaning of the words of this fluent stranger, but his 
heart must have bounded with pleasure. With a broad 
smile on his lips, he left his post, and approached the new, 
comers, saying : 

"I never see you before. You're very kind to a poor- 



86 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

simple feller like me. Who are you anyway, young- man?" 

With that fluency of speech so natural to him, and a 
certain seriousness that marked his tongue, Reuben Rover 
replied without hesitation : 

"Young man, the modest person always hesitates about 
disclosing his identity, so you must excuse us for not intro- 
ducing ourselves before. You must also excuse me for not 
offering you our cards. Unfortunately the last one was 
printed blank, and besides it fell by the wayside on our 
journey hither. The fact is, taken collectively, we are a 
couple of gifted savants from the realms of mystery-bound 
India, and we come as heralds of a masterly machination 
to restore to the paternal fold the lamb that vanished from 
its native haunts. Taken individually, my name is Leon- 
adis Alexander Frothingham, P. O. M. P. of E. T., which 
last means in English, as you would read it, 'Professor 
of Occult Mystery and Divine Prophet of the Everlast- 
ing Triumph.' My honored associate here is none other 
than the Honorable Leonard Xerxes Quiver, High Chan- 
cellor to the Ancient Royalty of the Order of the Temple 
of Silence." 

Small wonder if the boy was bewildered by this extrav- 
agant speech, delivered with the rapidity and smoothness 
of yarn running off of a spindle turned by machinery. He 
stared in silence upon the speaker for some time after he 
had ceased speaking. 

"Well, youngster, we are not exactly on exhibition, 
and when you have taken our measurement you may tell 
us your name." 

"It's Sam. Most everybuddy calls me 'Everybuddy's 
Sam,' but most everybuddy lies." 

"Thank your stars they do not call you 'Everybody's 
Fool.' But you have this consolation, Sam, which is that 
the crowd is made up of the simpletons, and that the crowd 
makes the majority, the majority makes the mob, the mob 
makes the rabble, and the rabble makes the rioters the 
world over." 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 87 

"Say, Reu — Professor," interjected Quiver, "that illit — " 

"A parrot should hold his tongue if he does not wish 
to show his ignorance," interrupted Rover. "I suppose you 
know every one around here, Sam, and all they are doing." 

"I knows every buddy in Sunset and on Beetle Hill. 
Why, I've lived all over th' Flats and th' Ridge." 

"Sort of lived on the public I take it, Sam. Well, 
never mind ; people like to have you live on them. If you 
will only feed their vanity, they will feed your stomach. 
Man's vanity is his armor against the truth of the world. 
Go ahead, while we walk along, and tell us what you know 
about the folks." 

"You won't forgit about that gravestone for dad?" 

"Did you ever know me to forget? I may conclude to 
get you a monument like that of the Newbegins, and I won't 
forget what I have promised you. Tell me what you know 
about the town's people of to-day." 

By this time they had regained the road, and as they 
moved slowly along the dusty way, Everybody's Sam said : 

"I s'pose it would be properest for me to begin with 
Squire Newbegin, seein' he owns about half of the town* 
an' has a mortgage on t'other. He's the meanest man in 
the world." 

"What !" 

"Everybuddy says so," stammered the abashed youth. 
• "A minute ago you said everybody lied." • 

"About me an' dad." 

"I see! the color of a lie depends on the individual 
towards whom it is sent. But tell me wherein the squire is 
meanest man in the world." 

"Jess runs in th* fambly I s'pose. His dad Aaron 
made more money 'n th' res' of th' town. When he died 
he left his boy named Aaron, who is the squire, all on't. 
He's had so many chances he couldn't help bein' mean I 
s'pose. Crackers an' cheese! jess see the offices he's got. 
He's postmister, store-keeper, mayor, squire, skul com- 
mittee, mod'rator, town treasurer, hog reef, an' sometimes, 



.88 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

when Deacon Goodwill ain't there, he picks up th' money 
in th' church." 

"I think he has an excuse for being mean if the town 
asks all of that of him." 

"Town don't ask him, but jess lets him." 

"I see; a case of leaving the door open for the thief 
while you bar the windows. But you haven't told me in 
what particular he is the meanest man in this town of 
saints." 

"Well — er — he jess is! It don't have to be told. 
Why, Bim Gooseberry says as how he overheerd the squire 
trade bosses on Sunday, an' he beat Jock Jenness, th' 
sharpest jockey this side of Coldbrook, out'n more'n fifty 
dollars. Then he lets folks as he knows can't pay it back 
have money, an' then he takes their house'ns an' lands for 
his own. He's jess owned Lish Whittle's hull farm for 
years and years, an' it us' t' be one of th' best farms in 
Sunset. He's owned Josh Spriggins's a long time, an' 
Life Story's little place. Uncle Life an' me are clus fri'nds. 
He larnt me that fine speech to make when I wanted folks 
to give for dad's tombstone. Weren't it a goll-snoozer ? 
Crackers an' cheese! won't th' greenies stick out their 
eyes when I tell 'em what you are goin' to do for me?" 

"Perhaps so; but go on with your interesting story. 
Tell me more about the squire." 

"I ain't begun yet. He let Cap'n Century, who's fit in 
three wars an' is gol-darned anxious for another, have money 
that he couldn't pay; an' th' Widder Hawkins; an' this 
very day th' Widder Temple an' her darter Mary are goin' 
to be sold out'n house an' home so Mark Crafts can pay fifty 
dollars to th' squire that he's owed him more'n a dozen years. 
As if ownin' th' town weren't enough, th' squire sot out to 
flick a railroad right through the Flats. He went so fur 's to 
have men stick a row of sticks where she wus to go, an' 
they stuck one on 'em right in Pell Dickey's dooryard. 
This wuz more'n th' town could stand, an' she riz in town 
meeting an' there wus some tall spoutin' ag'in it. Uncle 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 89 

Life riz to make a speech, but he got switched off into 
tellin' his stories — he's got his weak p'ints, if he is my 
fr'ind — an he spun his yarn so long that it got to be milkin' 
time afore he wus done, so th' mod'rator, who didn't happen 
to be th' squire, shut up the meetin'. The squire was orful 
put out. Jock Jenness, who lives on Beetle Hill, an' he 
has a spite of long standin', was tickled most to death. 
Deacon Goodwill felt so grand he moved th' meetin' be 
closed with a prayer. It must have been a stunnin' time. 

"But they got th' railroad, with the squire a-workin' 
for it, but it cost the town forty thousand dollars of bor- 
rowed money. Some say this money wus never paid, and 
that th' squire gobbled it. Anyway th' road didn't pay, an' 
so the guv'nor come down one Sunday, though I never 
knowed why he come then, and ripped up the rails. Then 
th' town had a big lawsuit which lasted for ten years, with 
the squire ag'in it, an' of course he licked. He alwus does 
— alwus has ever sence he was no higher'n a toad. This 
made it orful hard for th' town, so when th' squire offered 
to give the land an' th' lumber fur a town-house, it wus 
voted they were too poor to take the gift of one. So th' 
squire has kept pretty mum ever sence. But you can mark 
your ears there's sumthin brewin'." 

"No doubt of it. I suppose in addition to this heavy 
load of sin the squire has been grossly guilty of selling rum 
to these saints of Sunset?'" 

"No; they can't lay that up ag'in th' squire, though 
they do say he us't'r sell rum. They say that wus what set 
his boy Free wild. An' when he run'd away, killed hisself by 
fallin' from a big high buildin', th' squire took an axe an 
stove in th' head to every rum barrel he had. Sence, no 
man, not even Cap'n Century, can get a drop from him. 
Say, mister, did you hear that hollerin', a-soundin' like a 
flock of wild geese goin' over in the spring?" asked Sam, 
suddenly changing the drift of his talk. 

"I heard some one trying to drive a yoke of oxen I 
should say by the language he is using. He seems to be 



90 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

well supplied with lung power." 

"Wull, mister," said Sam with a grin, as if hugely 
pleased with the thought, "that's Job Ramsbottom, an' he's 
drivin' his spotted steers down Break-neck Hill 'way over 
on t'other road. Marster man to holler to his cattle you 
ever see; hear him way over on Beetle Hill sometimes. 
Job's funny, he is; round as a punkin an' noisy as a loon. 
Hear him," and as the three listened a rather mixed com- 
pound of ejaculations, commands, threats, and complaints 
was borne plainly to their ears : 

"Haw, Buck; gee, Breck; stand up in line there, yeou 
catamounts; wh'rsr'hs, Buck; stand up to the bow, Breck; 
now, together, whoa, haw, gee, back, get up; whut in cre- 
ation ails yeou, Bowcannon and Brokenridge. Th' more 
yeou mind the worse yeou act!" 

"That's Job," declared Sam, with a low laugh. "He 
alwus drives jess like that. He's bin ccurtin' Belindy Bet- 
ters, 'long with Bim Gooseberry, for years and years. 
They us't' be fr'inds, but they've got so now they don't 
speak to one another — I mean Bim an' Job — an' I heerd 
t'other day, down to th' squire's store that Job wus goin' 
to shoot Bim th' next time he kotched him hangin' round 
Belindy's house. Hear Job keep up his hollerin' !" 

"Hoi' up yeour head, Breck; hump up yeour back, 
Buck ; by th' great horn spoon, yeou'll hang me on th' stone 
wall! Haw, Buck! gee! gee! haw, gee, back, whoa, get 
up ! th' more yeou mind th' worse yeou — " 

The cries growing fainter as they continued the last 
word was lost to the listeners, though there was slight 
doubt as to what it was, and they resumed their journey 
down the road, Reuben Rover requesting Sam to continue 
his description of Squire Newbegin and his family. 

"There ain't much to tell about th' squire's fambly 
matters. He's orful clus-mouthed, so even Belindy Bet- 
ters, who's marster smart at findin' out other folks' busi- 
ness, don't know much about 'em. The squire had a boy 
named arter him, who run away 'bout twenty years ago. I 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW Dl 

guess he weren't of much 'count. Anyway he wus killed 
by fallin' from a buildin' over in Goshen, or some furaway 
town. At fust th' squire said he wouldn't go arter his 
buddy, but th' mother cried so he did go. Then to please 
her he built that fine monument. It was lucky he did for 
she died within a year, an' wus buried beside her boy. 
They say she wus an orful good woman, an' that she took 
her boy's actions bad/' 

"God bless her memory," declared the returned prodi- 
gal fervently, while he looked away from his companions as 
if something in the distant woods had arrested his atten- 
tion. Finally he asked, with a tremor in his voice : "Were 
there other children ?■" 

"Crackers and cheese! you mus' be 's ignerent 's a 
hoss to ask that question. There's Nat, his darter, 's peart 
a miss 's ever you see. She keeps th' deestrict skule, an* 
the way she shakes out th' boys would 'mind you of her 
dad. Oh, she's another squire in skirts, an' she'll have her 
way every time. They do say even th' squire hisself has to 
knuckle to her. She's a whole team an' th' driver to boot. 
Handsome 's a pictur' ; looks like her mother, they say. I 
heerd only yesterday that Cap'n Eb's son John is tryin' to 
spark her. It's sot th' Root's up orfully sence th* ol' man's 
got to be cheerman of the sillickmen." 

In this way the garrulous Sam entertained his interested 
listeners until a mile had been passed, when he was led to 
say: 

"I mustn't forget Homer Bland, th' blind fiddler, who 
comes along every year singin' his songs, tellin' his stories, an' 
fiddlin' like all-possessed. He makes up potery, an' though 
he's blin' 's a bat, he's a man an' kerridge. Say, if you're goin' 
to stop in town you're in luck ; folks are lookin' for him about 
this time. He alwus gets along jess afore Bige Little, th' 
fat pack peddler, an' Bige alwus comes right arter th' 
equinoctural. You can alwus count on Bige, an' he grows 
rounder and jollier every year. Then there's Ken Fok'sle, 
who lives down toward th' harbor in th' ol' Brunt house. 



92 THE SHADOWS MEK FOLLOW 

Cap'n Ken, 's they call him, has gone clean daft over the 
drownin' of a boy at sea ; ship an' everybuddy went down. 
He's got it into his head he's goin' to build a ship and go 
and find his boy, and so he's makin' one down on the bog. 
Guess the squire let him hev his lumber, and he gets most 
of his livin' from the squire. Crackers an' cheese! he's so 
crazy he builds a fire every dark and stormy night on the 
shore of the pond, so's to show the way home for his boy. 
And if it ain't dark enough for his beacon fire, his wife sets 
a candle in th' winder. The folks call 'em 'harbor lights.' 
They must be looney, for in coorse a feller gone twenty 
years will never come back ag'in, d'you think?" 

"He might," replied Reuben Rover, turning his head 
away so as to avoid the gaze of his companions. These 
broken reminiscences were touching a tender spot in his 
memory, and more than once, unseen by his friends, he had 
brushed the unbidden tear from eyes that had not wept for 
many years. 

'^Twenty years seems to be about the time they all go 
for, eh?" interrogated Leonard Quiver, with a sly nudge of 
his elbow against the side of the last speaker. 



CHAPTER IV 

. SELLING A HOME AT AUCTION 

Behind a range o' wooded hills, 

That hid it from the highway, 
A low, old-fashioned farm-house stood, 

Beside a leetle by-way. 

—Hall. 

As Reuben Rover and his friend moved slowly along 
the country road, so overhung at places by the encroaching 
bushes that they had to bow their heads to escape them, 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 93 

keeping up a running conversation with the simple Sam, 
they began to find farm-houses more frequently. Then, in 
the midst of this quiet journey, the sound of loud voices, 
as if several persons were speaking at once without any 
regard for those who might be listening, reached their ears > 
when the boy said : 

"There's an auction at th' Widder Temple's to sell her 
house and Mary's, with their belongings. They are owin' 
Mark Crafts a lot o' money, an' so he called th' auction to 
sell everything they had, so as to git a part back. But, 
crackers an cheese! 'twon't half pay him, 'cos th' place 
ain't worth more'n a hundred dollars. Mark has got Jock 
Jenness for auctioneer, an' he'll git more'n any other man. 
Hear him spout !" 

The medley of voices had suddenly given way to one 
resonant tone, which seemed to roll and expand, as it left 
the speaker's lips, until the swift-flowing volume of words 
filled the space for rods around. The auctioneer was a 
large, broad-shouldered, angular man, with a slight stoop to 
his shoulders and eyes that peered out from under over- 
hanging eyebrows with a light that would flash up at times 
and then die away to a faint gleam. Just now they were 
burning with the fire of excitement. 

In order to command a good view of his audience he 
had mounted a chair standing in the hallway of the little 
red-painted cottage, while the listeners stood outside, except 
the few who had crowded into the rooms opening from the 
narrow stairway. Some of these spectators were leaning 
against the wall of the building; some had climbed into the 
wagons and vehicles of various kinds that stood in the yard; 
others maintained an awkward and unsupported position, 
where they could hear the speaker and watch the play of 
his features as his earnestness increased. With one excep- 
tion the auctioneer held the closest attention of his hearers. 
This exception to the rule was a stout-built man, a little over 
the shady line of fifty, who was leaning against a wagon 
wheel, while he busied himself whittling a pine stick, 



94 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

chuckling now and then as he made an uncommon long 
shaving. As might be expected the crowd was a typica) 
country gathering of men, women and children. 

"Come, gents, speak right out, and not stand round 
like so many geese just out of water! Here's this piece 
of antique furniture, if not valuable for its actual worth 
still rich enough to make any man a nabob in its associ- 
ations. Here may have been cradled in the innocent sleep 
of childhood a president of this great and glorious country ! 
Just think of it, ladies and gents, and tumble over each 
other in your bids. Why here has slept in tranquil peace 
such a boy or girl as you might have known. A quarter 
for this birthplace of childish dreams! Twenty-five cents 
am I offered, who says the half? Re — " 

He was interrupted in his glowing peroration by the 
piercing scream of a woman, who rushed forward bare- 
headed, with uplifted arms, and tears streaming down her 
grief-drawn countenance. She was an elderly woman, with 
snow-white hair and features that showed gentleness and 
refinement, though pinched with years of hard work and 
suffering. 

"Please do not sell that, sir ! Oh, let me keep my 
dear little Roy's trundle bed! It's all I have to remember 
him by, and he looked so pretty curled up there in the 
innocence of childish sleep. Please, sir; spare me that. 
It will not bring much." 

At this juncture she was joined by a younger woman, 
whose close resemblance to her showed that she must be 
her daughter, who added her supplication to that of her 
trembling parent. 

"Mrs. Temple and Mary," whispered Sam. "They 
have come to be very poor, though Mary has worked 
hard." 

(Begun in the July number; to be continued) 




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Photo by George \V. Manter 

THE SMYTH TOWER 

(See page 106) . 



journal of Mo*t* fceteep 

An Officer in the Seven Years' War 

Notes by Col. Lucie* Thompson, Durham, N. H. 

Moses Kelsey served in the Seven Years' War; first, as a sergeant 
in Captain Shepherd's Company, Col. Nathaniel Meserve's Regiment, sent 
from New Hampshire in 1756 to operate against the French around Lake 
Champlain. 

In 1757 he was apparently quartermaster to one of the companies 
detached from Colonel Meserve's Regiment to join the. Earl of Loudon's 
Expedition against Louisburg, during which campaign he kept a brief 
diary with valuable memoranda, which is in the writer's possession.* 

He afterwards served in New York, where he was killedt in 1758. 



THE JOURNAL 



Thursd July & 21 th 1757 

one Bord the Cat Ship Mary Louise per forty five 

men on weke Cam from fort Lannsis on mondey Before 

Saterday Henery Hill for Thurteen men onbord 23 

day 4 days 

Durham august 27 th 1757 
Then Recid on order from Benjmin hall to whicher of Six 
Dolers 

Notingham august 27 1757 
Received on order of Benjmin Hall to Receved four 
Dolors 



*This diary, which has been kindly loaned us by Mr. Thompson, is a small 12 mo., 
bound in hog-skin and in a good state of preservation, though stained and worn from having 
been carried so long in the pocket of its owner. 

The following minute given on the first page seems worthy of quotation: 

"Bought halefex July ye 19, 1757." — Editor. 

fThe writer's grandmother, Jane DeMeritt. was named after her maternal grandmother, 
can (Kelsey) McCrillis, daughter of William Kelsey and Margaret Hay, his wife. Her 



brother. Hugh Kelsey was killed at the seige of Louisburg in 1745; another brother was 
Moses Kelsey, mentioned above; her sister Sarah married Thomas Allison, who settled in 
Barrington, N. H., and they were the grandparents of Gen. B. F. Butler, ex-governor of 
Massachusetts. Another sister, Mary, married James Morrison of Nottingham, and one of 
their sons, James Morrison, was a captain in the Revolutionary Army, and another son, 
Robert Morrison, was at Bunker Hill, Saratoga and Stillwater.— L. T. 

95 



96 



JOURNAL OF MOSES KELSEY 



port milor (?) Septembr 20 1757 
Then Recived on ord of Samuel Wilkinson of Tenn dolors 
to Robrt kelse Bearin deat Sep 3 

Recived on order from Cornel of on dolor 



LIST OF ALL THE MEN S NAMES 



Sarg 1 FARRY 
" Drews 
" Pewely 

Sarg Hill 

Josiah Haild 

Charls Crimbal 

Jeremiah Smith 

Daniel Tailor 

moses Bleak 

Thimothy Bleak 

John Sambon 

W m Lang 

gorgs Kiniston 

Simoen ball 

Benjmin Brown 
Abtte 

Trastam Sambon 

John Jenines 

JosephjRand 

Benson Ham 

Richerd Parsons 

Nathan molton 

Sa m Ham 

John mchonne Sin 

Josiah Robeson 

Thomas Pirkins 

mark Nelson 

Sa m Keley 

Jeremiah Lang 

Sa m Leghton 

Bengman Hall 



Cons 1 Gilman 
Edmund Stephins 
John Stanson 
John Smith 
Josiah Smith 
waltor Swain 
Samuel Patol 
Simon Patol 
Deniel Mason 
John Jones 
Jonathan Hoyt 
John Halon 
Benjmin fox 
John Blake 
Robrt Kimbal 
John Spenser 
Limuel Drew 
Sa m Hall 
Robrt Simpson 
David Beuely 
Ebenezer Cornel 
Jeremiah Gilman 
Jonathan Sambon 
Henaery Lang 
Joshuay Cate 
Isace Curer 
Sam wilkinson 
Thom Chandler 
Isace Grifin desed 
James Hall 



JOURNAL OF MOSES KELSEY 97 

MISIN 

Joseph Rend Jeremiah gilman 

Sam wilkinson Denial mason 

Rob Kimbal John Jons 

John Sambon Jams Hall 

Josiah Hald Jonath Sambon 

Com in Robert Kembal Room Hail Stephens 
Com in Jerimiah Gilman Room Jonathan Stephens 

Abraham Rewel John Whitden 

John Quigg Jeremiah Smith 

Willm Davis Samuel Robson 

John Cooper Deniel gilman 

Pattan Simpson Joseph Cass 

April 2 went to Lonenderey and Tarreyed ther til mondey 
and then went through Notingham and Dunstubl and grot- 
tin and Lancestor and Choxford and holdon and old Rut- 
land and New Rutland over the Rockey hills throu New 
france some towns forgot and then to New Swamp and 
then to Sanden Land where we met the Compney in 5 days 





JOURNAL OF THE GATE BATAL YEAR Yjtf 


months 


5 days 




March 


16 marct to Notingham 


20 mils 




17 to Epsom 


12 




•18 to Rumford and terred ther Seven 






Days til the 25 


18 




25 to Hopkin Touwn 


9 


April 


I st to Major Blises fort 


50 




3 to nomber two 


10 




4 to hansdals fort 


22 




5 to North feid 


9 




7 to Mountien and Sunderland 


18 


April 


8 to hadley 

and Crost the Canneaticut River and 


9 




Com to North hampton 


3 



98 JOURNAL OF MOSES KELSEY 

April 9 to Chikary where I left my hors 12 

10 we went on bord the Bots and Came 

down the river by Springfeld and 
wstfeald and the Long madors 
and infeald and Shufeald winsor 
and harford and wathersfeld to 
Rockey hilds 50 

11 to mideltown 7 

13 went on Bord of a sloop and Sailed 

by old hadley hadam and East 
hadam to Seebrook 30 

14 to New Hauein 40 
and Lay ther four days and Sailed 

to west hauin 

20 Saild by milford and Statford 

21 to Long Island 

23 Threw hals gayt to NawYork 62 

24 to Stans Island 8 
and Borded out three weeks 

May 11 we imbarged on Bord the Sloop 

Betsey at York 8 

21 Saild up husons River after desart- 

ors to Tapan and Took one 30 

25 Reurned to York 30 
June 1 the fleet moued Down to Sandy huck 32 miles 

15 our Sloop wos Condaned and we 

ware poot on Bord of on of the 
king Ships Caled the Mary while 
we Lay hear at Sandy hook four 
of the Reglers Swiming was 
Cathed By the Sharks and five 
men ware drowned by the squil 

20 Sat Sail for halifix 

28 Came in Site of Land at the East 
of the— 

30 arived in the harbor 



JOURNAL OF MOSES KELSEY 99 

July 3 quet the Ship and in Campt on dart- 
mouth Sid of the harbor 

4 marct for Sisincok 

5 marct to Lavington 16 

6 marct to Sisincok 20 
9 two of Cp* Starks Compeny ware 

wounded By a gun going of aksa- 
dantly 
10 we took one of the Reglors desarted 
that was going to the frenth 

14 Returned to Lavington 16 

15 Returned to dartmouth 12 

17 Scouted on the norwast arm and 

18 Returned one the next day 

21 Two Boys was whipt to dath for 
trying to Blowe oup the ship 
July 26 three men of the Rengors ware 
takin at Lanistown as they ware 
picking straberis in sight of the 
fort 
August 2 imbarqued on bord the Snow for 
Capbriton 
5 imbarqed for Boston one Bord the 
Egal galle and Lay wnd Bound 
Seuerel days 
13 Sargent Job Leebey and Thomas 
Chas died in the ospitel on the 
island 
15 we Sayled for Boston 

20 Isace grffiin died on his Pashege 

from halefex at on in the morning 

21 we arived at Portsmouth 

27 marct to Exetor 13 

28 to Chastor ' 12 

29 to deray and Notingham and to 18 

Dunstubl 

30 to Groten 17 






■' 



100 JOURNAL OF MOSES KELSEY 

Sept i to Luninburg 16 

2 to Naregansent 16 

6 to So dearfeld Huseeck 

Note. — The following items found in another part of the book are 
thought worthy of preservation in print. Besides these are several entries 
of accounts with different soldiers by Quartermaster Kelsey. — Editor. 

Thomas Chase died August 13 175 at Halefex 

on New french gun marked T C 

on Coton and Linin Shirt 

on frock asinbrgs 

on pare of asinbrgs Trousers 

on powderhorn one boolet pouth 

on par of yarn Stockins 

on Betel 

fifteen Spenesh mild dolers 

on gray Jacket two par of Stockins 

two par of Brithis 

on Strped Jacket on Shirt 

on old hat and Cap 

thes thengs ar kept in Charge 

with John Holon 

Newcastel august 23 d 1757 

Reed the above Contents 

I Sas Receved By me Moses Chase 

August the 21 1757 
Isaac Grifin died on his pashis from Halifex and Left the 
Things folowing 

on Cott 

on Striped 

on pare of Britches 

on Cotin and Linin Shirt 

Two par of yarn Stockins 

on old felt hat 

on gun marked I G 1757 

on pouder horn and Bolet pouch 

Forty one Spenesh mild dolors 



CORN PHILOSOPHY . 101 

Portsmouth ( 

Receved the of the above Contents 

Sargen 1 Job Lieby 

on gun 

on Cott 

on blew Jeaket 

on Red par of britches 

on par of Sieve Butens Silver 

three par of Stoakins 

on flask on par of Lather Briteis 

on Tow Shirt on hat 

on par of Shoes 

on Chist 

Died at hallefex August the 13 th 1757 
Newcastel August 23 1757 
Recived the above Contents 
I Say Reaced By me 

Joseph Libbe 

Albany, May 23 th 1758 
The Rec d the full of our Wages on a muster roll Com- 
mencing from the 25 th of February and Ending the 24 th of 
Ap r 1758 We Say Rec d P r Us. 

Henry Lang 
Beneon Ham 
Mark Nelson 
Steven Swett 



Corn ^fnfogopfjp 

By Sam H. Edes 

"A hoein' corn the other day," 

Old Brown, the farmer, said, 
"Some pretty wise and wonderful thoughts 

Came runnin' through my head. 



102 CORN PHILOSOPHY 

"The cultivator comes along 

And buries the blades out of sight, 
And they'd die in a day if I didn't go 
And set 'em all upright. 

"Corn's tender. But weeds and grass, 
Why goodness sakes alive, 
The more you cut and mangle 'em 
The more they seem to thrive. 

M 'Now ain't that just the way with life ?' 
Says I, as I worked along, 
*The useful folks are easy killed 
And don't seem no ways strong ; 

" 'While them that never was worth their salt 
Til stand more bumps and blows ; 
When you think they're done for, up they jumps 
As smilin' as a rose. 

" 'Now,' says I, 'such bein' the case, 
What's the livin' reason 
That the old world don't all grow bad 
'Stead o' better every season ?' 

"I thought on that till an answer came 
That seemed to fit in good, 
An' I guess I got as near the truth 
As the best philosopher could. 

"'It's the farmer that kills the grass and weeds 
With strokes of his iron hoe, 
And frees the corn from their chokin' grasp 
And gives it a chance to grow ; 

"'And so,' says I, It's as clear as light 
, That the whole world grows in love, 

Because of the careful hand and eyes 
Of a Farmer up above.' " 




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Pastime* of tfje 31nbtan$ 



By George Copway 

"Fantastic, frolicsome and wild, 
With all the trinkets of a child." 

— Cotton. 



BELIEVE all the Indian nations of this continent 
have amusements among them. Those of the 
Prairie nations are different from those of the Ojib- 
ways, suitable to their wide, open fields. The 
plays I am about to describe are the principal games prac- 
ticed by the people of my nation. There are others ; and 
chance games are considerably in vogue among them. 

One of the most popular games is that of ball playing, 
which oftentimes engages an entire village. Parties are 
formed of from ten to several hundred. Before they com- 
mence, those who are to take a part in the play must pro- 
vide each his share of staking, or things which are set 
apart ; and one leader for each party. Each leader then 
appoints one of each company to be stake-holder. 

Each man and each woman (women sometimes engage 
in the sport) is armed with a stick, one end of which bends 
somewhat like a small hoop, about four inches in circum- 
ference, to which is attached a network of raw-hide two 
inches deep, just large enough to admit the ball which is to 
be used on the occasion. Two poles are driven in the 
ground at a distance of four hundred paces from each other, 
which serves as goals for the two parties. It is the 
endeavor of each to take the ball to his pole. The party 
which carries the ball and strikes its pole wins the game. 

The warriors, very scantily attired, young and brave, 
fantastically painted — and women, decorated with feathers, 

103 



104 PASTIMES OF THE INDIANS 

assemble around their commanders, who are generally men 
swift on the race. They are to take the ball either by run- 
ning with it or throwing it in the air. As the ball falls in 
the crowd the excitement begins. The clubs swing and 
roll from side to side, the players run and shout, fall upon 
and tread upon each other, and in the struggle some get 
rather rough treatment. 

When the ball is thrown some distance on each side, 
the party standing near instantly picks it up, and runs rap- 
idly, with three or four after him, at full speed. The 
others send their shouts of encouragement to their own 
party. "Ha! ha! yah!" "A-ne-gook !" and these shouts 
are heard even from the distant lodges, for children and all 
are interested in the exciting scene. The spoils are not all 
on which their interest is fixed, but is directed to the falling 
and rolling of the crowds over and under each other. The 
loud and merry shouts of the spectators, who crowd the 
doors of the wigwams, go forth in one continued peal, and 
testify to their happy state of feeling. 

The players are clothed in fur. They receive blows 
whose marks are plainly visible after the scuffle. The hands 
and feet are unincumbered, and they exercise them to the 
extent of their power; and with such dexterity do they 
strike the ball that it is sent out of sight. Another strikes 
it on its descent, and for ten minutes at a time the play is 
so adroitly managed that the ball does not touch the 
ground. 

No one is heard to complain, though he be bruised 
severely or his nose come in close communion with a club. 
If the last-mentioned catastrophe befell him, he is up in a 
trice and sends his laugh forth as loud as the rest, though 
it be floated at first on a tide of blood. 

It is very seldom, if ever, that one is seen to be angry 
because he has been hurt. If he should get so they would 
call him a "coward," which proves a sufficient check to 
many evils which might result from many seemingly 
intended injuries. 



, 



PASTIMES OF THE INDIANS 105 

I well remember witnessing a game of ball which was 
played in the presence of a large crowd of spectators. 

On one side was a thicket of thorns ; on the other a 
lake shore with a sandy beach of half a mile. There were 
but two rivals in this group of players. One of these was 
a small man from the region of the Great Lakes, whose 
name was Nai-nah-aun-gaib (Adjusted Feathers), who ad- 
mitted no rival in braver)', daring or adventure, making the 
contest more interesting. The name of his competitor was 
ZMah-koonce (Young Bear), and he belonged to the home 
tribe. 

The first, as I said before, was a small man. His body 
was a model for sculpture; well proportioned. His hands 
and feet tapered with all the grace and delicacy of a lady's. 
His long black hair flowed carelessly upon his shoulders. 
On the top of his raven locks waved in profusion seventeen 
signals (with their pointed fingers) of the feathers of that 
rare bird, the western eagle, being the number of the 
enemy he had taken with his own hand. A Roman nose 
with a classic lip, which wore at all times a pleasing smile. 
Such was U^ai-nah-ann-gaib. That day he had not the 
appearance of having used paint of any kind. Before and 
after the play I counted five bullet marks around his breast. 
Three had passed through ; two were yet in his body. 
Besides these, there were innumerable marks of small shot 
upon his shoulders, and the graze of a bullet on his 
temple. 

His rival on this occasion was a tall, muscular man. 
His person was formed with perfect symmetry. He walked 
with ease and grace. On his arms were bracelets com- 
posed of the claws of grizzly bears. He had been in the 
field of battle but five times ; yet on his head were three 
signals of trophies. 

The parties passed to the field : a beautiful green, as 
even as a floor. Here they exhibited all the agility and 
graceful motions. The one was as stately as the proud elk 



106 THE SMYTH TOWER 

of the plains, while the other possessed all the gracefulness 
of the antelope of the western mountains. 

Shout after shout arose from each party, and from the 
crowd of spectators. "Yah-hah — yah-hah," were all the 
words that could be distinguished. After a short contest 
the Bear struck the post, and at that moment the 
applause was absolutely deafening. Thus ended the first 
day of the play, which was continued for some length of 
time. 




Cfje ^mptf) Softer 

By A Staff Contributor 

HE visitor to the heights overlooking the city of 
Manchester and the valley of the Merrimack for 
miles up and down the river cannot be other than 
curious to know what the stone tower pictured by the 
camera of our artist stands for and by whom it was built. 
Is it a mystery rivalling the Newport tower? If romance 
loses something by the explanation we find that it was 
erected by the late Frederick Smyth, former governor and 
prominent citizen of New Hampshire, in commemoration of 
the purchase of the first real estate that he owned in Man- 
chester, and really marks the beginning of a successful 
career both in industrial and political life. The tower was 
built from stone and timber obtained near by, is circular in 
form, twenty feet in diameter, two stories in height, and at 
one time was completely furnished for occupancy by the 
governor and his family. Less frequently visited now it 
begins to show its neglect, and to take on the picturesque 
appearance of the old towers of England, after which it 
was happily planned by its projector. 




FREDERICK MYRON COLBY 



/^|) <®Ib j^etu Hampshire Cfcme 



By Frederick Mvron Colby 

Frederick Myron Colby was born in Warner, N. H., of English ances- 
try, being a descendant of Anthony Colby, who settled in Amesbury, 
Mass., in 1832. 

Mr. Colby's life has been mostly spent in his native town, where he 
ranks as one of its most active and prominent citizens. His chief pursuit 
for many years has been literature, and he stands high among the popular 
writers of the day. He is the author of several historical and juvenile 
volumes, and his ready and versatile pen is recognized as a power far 
beyond the limits of New Hampshire. — Editor. 



TOrcJi'ER many lands I've wandered, 
^i£t£L And sailed from sea to sea; 
}f^*& I've seen the sunlight glisten 
On waves of Zuyder Zee; 
But 'mid strange scenes and pleasures, 

And whereso'er I roam, 
There's no place to me so pleasant 
As my old New Hampshire home. 



I've dreamed in grim old Stirling, 

In Windsor's stately halls; 
I've seen the wondrous paintings 

On the Louvre's gleaming walls; 
But not in hall or castle, 

'Neath shining spire or dome, 
Have I found the sweet contentment 

Of my old New Hampshire home. 

107- oi 



MY OLD NEW HAMPSHIRE HOME 109 

Sweet are the clust'ring olives 

Among the hills of Spain; 
And fair the blooming orchards 

Of Normandy and Maine; 
But not in cot or homestead 

Beyond the swelling foam, 
Can you find the cosy comfort 

Of my old New Hampshire home 

Bright are the streams of Hellas 

Girt with their woods of pine; 
And gay the Tuscan vineyards 

'Neath purple Apennine; 
But fairer than the landscapes 

Of sunny Greece or Rome, 
Are the hilltops and the valleys 

Of my old New Hampshire home-. 



O warmly falls the sunlight 

O'er Bagdad's domes of snow; 
And rich the gelds of roses 

Where Phar par's waters flow; 
But sweeter grow the violets 

By merry brooklet's foam, 
And fairer still the sunshine 

Of my old New Hampshire home. 



New Hampshire! O New Hampshire! 

I love to think of thee, 
Dreaming by vine-clad mountain, 

Or lulled by tropic sea; 
My heart will always hunger 

While foreign lands I roam, 
For the comforts and the blessings 

Of my old New Hampshire home. 




fc - 



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Granite J>tate jPaga^ne 

Vol. II. SEPTEMBER, 1906. No. 3. 



^28^ 



Claremont 

The Picturesque and Progressive 

By Gertrude Jones Bartlett 



ffHE greater part of the Granite State had already 
*£w§3 been explored, and settled to some extent ; the 
* ?* humble homes of the pioneers had appeared in the 
clearings made by their sturdy hands, when a man named 
Eastman, a hunter and trapper, making his way from Con- 
necticut toward the north, along the banks of our noble 
boundary river, was attracted by the natural beauty and 
advantages of the tract of land situated between Old Num- 
ber Four, now Charlestown, and the present town of Cornish. 
He found no traces of savages, which fact, with his 
enthusiastic description of the marvellous beauty and the 
apparent fertility of' the region with its abundance of water 
power, aroused an interest among his friends which led 
them to abandon their Connecticut homes, that they might 
see for themselves the locality which he considered so full 
of promise. Time has proved that they made no mistake 
in their choice of territory, as Claremont, though settled 
later than the surrounding towns, has had a rapid and 
steady growth, and is now the largest town in the state. 

' The first known settlers of the town were Moses 
Spafford and David Lynde, who were living here in 1762. 
Two years later, on the 26th of October, a territory six 
miles square was granted by George III. to about seventy 
petitioners, most of whom were Episcopalians from Con- 
Ill 



112 CLAREMONT 

necticut. The grant was divided into equal shares, Gover- 
nor Wentworth keeping for himself five hundred acres; 
one share for foreign religious work, one share for a glebe 
for the Church of England, one share for the first minister 
who should settle here, and one share for educational pur- 
poses. The grantees succeeded in making terms with the 
squatters by giving them generous parcels of land. Cabins 
were built, mostly in the west part of the town. Husbands 
soon began to send for their wives and children, and we 
can picture the inhabitants, even in their rough cabins, 
happy and contented, yet looking eagerly forward to the 
time when greater good fortune should be theirs. 

No Indian relics having been found on this soil, it is 
safe to say that this was never the abode of any tribe of 
Indians, and the only red man found here by the early set- 
tlers was a certain Tousa, supposed to have been a chief, 
who seemed quite friendly so long as the territory which he 
called his own was not disturbed. As the town grew he 
appeared irritated by its prosperity, and after a heated dis- 
cussion with some of the settlers was never seen again. 
His skeleton having been found years afterward upon his 
own ground, we may draw our conclusions as to his fate. 

In the early part of 1767, a mechanic, Benjamin Tyler, 
came t,o Claremont on foot from Connecticut and, having 
succeeded in securing mill privileges on Sugar river, where 
the Jarvis and Coy mills now stand, built the first dam, as 
well as saw and grist-mills in this vicinity. In 1785 he built 
larger mills where H. VV. Frost's grist-mill now stands. 
Mr. Tyler held many town offices and did much to benefit 
the town. 

On the eighth day of March, 1768, the first town meet- 
ing was held at the house of Capt. Benjamin Brooks and a 
town clerk, selectmen, constable and tithingmen chosen, 
also a committee to lay out necessary thoroughfares. One 
of the oldest roads was that running north and south over 
the hills in the west part of the town. It was over this 
road that President Wheelock and his family, with servants 



CLAREMONT 113 

and students, passed on their way from Connecticut to 
Hanover, where they established Dartmouth College, which 
was an outgrowth of Moor's Indian Charity School at 
^Lebanon, Conn. 

The population of Claremont, in 1775, was 523, but 
after the breaking out of the Revolutionary War the inhab- 
itants scattered and in less than a year's time there were 
not more than forty families remaining. The greater part 
of the townspeople were in favor of open hostilities with 
England, and no favor was shown suspected Tories, who 
were in danger of their lives. British spies were scouring 
remote parts of the country and about a mile below the 
village, near the river, is a spot called Tory Hole, which 
was used as a place of hiding. As the affairs of the coun- 
try became settled the population began to increase, manu- 
facturing was carried on in all parts of the town, and after 
1810 water power was used largely for manufacturing 
purposes. 

The most fashionable residences were built and the 
center of business was located on or near Town Hill, in the 
west part of the town. A few of the houses are now in 
the possession of prosperous farmers, the land here being 
particularly fertile, while many of the buildings have gone 
to decay and only parts of cellars and other slight evi- 
dences of their location remain. 

Soon after the settlement of the town two ecclesiasti- 
cal bodies were formed. The first Congregational minister, 
Rev. George Wheaten, was ordained according to the 
Congregational platform in 1772, and held meetings on 
Town Hill in a building which was used for a school. This 
house was built of logs, covered with rough boards, and 
had a floor of earth. The meeting house erected later on 
the Junction road, near the land now used by the Sullivan 
County Fair Association, was taken down in 1790 and 
removed to Broad street, where it was used for town meet- 
ings as well as religious services. The site was given by 
Josiah Stevens, together with the land south of it, to be 



114 CLAREMONT 

used by the town as a park. This building, which was 
afterwards twice remodelled, was used exclusively for town 
meetings and public gatherings after the Congregational 
church on Pleasant street was built in 1835. So strong 
was the attachment felt by the people for this historic land- 
mark that the demolition of the old building and the erec- 
tion of the present opera house in its place, seemed to many 
nothing less than sacrilege. 

The Episcopalians formed an organization in 1771, but 
meetings were not held regularly until 1773, when Union 
church was erected in the west part of the town, the Rev. 
Ranna Cossitt having been appointed rector. He was an 
outspoken Royalist, a fact which did not please most of his 
parishoners, yet he must have been successful in his work 
here for the church prospered. A tower and belfry were 
added to Union church in 1800, and soon after a bell was 
hung and an organ, a rarity at that time, placed in the 
church. Services have been held regularly in this historic 
edifice during the one hundred and thirty-three years since 
its erection. This parish was divided and a new parish 
organized in the village in 1843. The corner-stone of 
Trinity church was laid on June 16, 1852, on the site of 
the earlier Trinity chapel on Broad street. 

A Baptist organization was formed in 1776, Methodist 
in 1800, Roman Catholic in 1823, Universalist about 1834, 
and Claremont may well be proud of the continued pros- 
perity and efficiency of her churches. 

People gradually moved farther east to a new section 
which has been for many years the center of business and 
social interests. The schools have kept pace with the gen- 
eral progress of the town, the present system being thor- 
oughly up to date. Private schools, where the higher 
branches were taught, were succeeded by Claremont Acad- 
emy, for which a building was erected at the corner of 
Sullivan and Walnut streets. It is now used as a dwelling 
house. This institution in turn gave way to Stevens High 
School, which through the munificence of Paran Stevens, 



CLAREMONT 115 

son of Josiah Stevens, a native of the town, was erected in 
1868. Mr. Stevens' gifts to the school have aggregated 
$65,000, to which has been added the more recent bequest 
of $70,000 from Mrs. Helen Richards Healy, also a native 
of the town. The Alden fund provides for an annual prize 
to the three graduates of the highest rank. Mrs. Harriet 
E. Tappan left over $30,000 for the district schools, the 
income to be divided among the pupils according to their 
standing at the close of each term, so that each child should 
receive a share of the prize money. 

A free library was founded, in 1873, by Samuel P. 
Fiske, a native of the town. Its first permanent location 
was in the old Bailey block, since known as the library 
building. Four years ago the library was removed to its 
present structure presented by Mr. Andrew Carnegie. 

Prominent among the business organizations of the 
town are the Claremont National Bank, J. Duncan Upham, 
president, organized under the name of the Claremont 
Bank in 1826, and the People's National Bank, Frank P. 
Maynard, president, organized in 1892. 

Three newspapers are published in Claremont at the 
present time. The National Eagle was established in 1834 
as a Whig paper, with John H. Warland as editor. The 
present publishers are Fay, Thompson and Fay, who pur- 
chased it in 1880. The Claremont ^Advocate, started as a 
Free Soil paper by Joseph Weber in 1849, under the name 
of the Northern Advocate, is now published by J. H. Whit- 
ing. The Narrative, a monthly prohibition paper, has been 
published since 1870 by S. H. Story. 

Foremost among the charitable organizations stands 
the Ladies' Union Aid Society, which has done most 
efficient word for the last twenty years, and in 1892 the 
society founded the Claremont Cottage Hospital, now 
indispenable to the community. 

A large number of secret orders and other organiza- 
tions are represented here, among them Hiram Lodge, 
A. F. and A. M., Webb Chapter, R. A. M.; Columbian 



116 CLAREMONT 

Council, R. and S. M., Sullivan Commandery, K. T.^ 
Order Eastern Star, Knights of Honor, Knights of 
Pythias, Uniform Rank Knights of Pythias, Red Men, 
Wachipauka Council, D. of P., Odd Fellows, Evening Star 
Encampment, Canton Oasis, Daughters of Rebekah, 
Ancient Order United Workmen, United Order Golden 
Cross, La Societe St. Jean Baptiste, Societe L'Union 
Canadienne-Francaise, Daughters of the Revolution, For- 
esters of America, Ancient Order of Hibernians, Patrons 
of Husbandry, Chellis Rifles, the Claremont Club, and 
business organizations. 

In the old days, when the main stage route from 
Massachusetts, to northern Vermont ran through Clare- 
mont, its many taverns were well patronized, among them 
the Cook Tavern, built in 1779, on the road to Windsor ; 
the Cupola House, four miles west of the village, known 
as the Cupola Farm; the Ralston Tavern, built in 1784, 
with a spacious hall in which the Free Masons held their 
meetings. An amusing story is told of Airs. Ralston who, 
prompted by the curiosity accredited to her sex, went to 
the unfinished attic during one of these meetings to listen 
to the proceedings. She had not succeeded in satisfying 
her curiosity, however, when her feet went through the 
ceiling and she had to be extricated from her embarrassing 
position by her husband and his fellow Masons. The 
broken ceiling was in evidence until the house was reno- 
vated in 1887. The tavern changed hands many times and 
in 181 5 was sold, together with the farm lands, for private 
purposes. It is now owned by Charles E. Bailey. The 
"Bill" Barnes Tavern, on North street, was built in 
1790, and is now occupied as a residence by the grand- 
daughter and great-grandson of the original owner. D. 
Chase's Tavern, better known as the Sullivan House, 
Willis T. Redfield, proprietor, was built in 1794. The 
Maynard Tavern at West Claremont, originally built for a 
private residence, was used as an inn for many years, and 
is now known as Hotel Cross, Fred C. Buzzell, proprietor. 



OLAREMONT 117 

TheTremont House, built in 1800 by Josiah Stevens for a 
residence, was afterwards enlarged and well known as a 
hotel from 1823 to 1879, when it was destroyed by fire. 
This hotel had entertained many persons of note, among 
them General Lafayette, in 1824. It was in this house 
that Paran Stevens, so well known as a hotel proprietor in 
Boston, New York and the South, began his experience in 
hatel life. It was owned from 1839 to 1880 by Aurelius 
Dickinson, and later kept by his son, Henry A. Dickinson, 
aud others. The Junction House, named for its location 
near the junction of the Sullivan, and Concord and Clare- 
mont Railroads, has been open at intervals. The lower 
village hotel, built about 18 15, was destroyed by fire about 
1848. The Belmont House, now Clark's Hotel, H. A, 
Clark, proprietor, erected in 1872, on Pleasant street, by 
Joel Hey wood, is now owned by his son, E. B. Heywood, 
and is a well appointed hotel. The Ascutney View House, 
Charles M. Atwood, proprietor, was built in 1891 by Ira F. 
Chandler and is now in the possession of Charles R 
Fletcher. The Central House, George S. Cook, propri- 
etor, at the corner of Sullivan and Pearl streets, is well 
patronized. Hotel Claremont, E. A. Winter, proprietor, 
which cost $110,000, was built in 1892 by a syndicate, on 
part of the site of the old Tremont House, and is one of 
the finest hotels in New Hampshire. 

The Connecticut Valley is particularly fertile and 
Claremont abounds in beautiful farms. One of the largest 
and most productive farms in the state is the Cupola Farm 
of five hundred acres, owned for nearly one hundred years 
by the Sumner family, since then by the late Pomeroy 
Rossiter, and is now owned by the widow of Charles P. 
Rossiter and her son Leonard. The Hubbard Farm is the 
land granted by Governor Wentworth in 1776 to Joseph 
Waite, in recognition of his services in the French and 
Indian War. After Mr. Waite's death the title was 
acquired by Lieut. George Hubbard, and it was in the 
hands of his descendants until purchased by David Farwell. 



118 CLAREMONT 

Among- other farms of considerable size are the Labarc 
Ainsworth Farm, now owned by his sons, George and Ralph 
Ainsworth; the Horace Dean Farm, on the Charlestown 
road, owned by John F. Jones; the Oliver Ashley Farm, 
owned since 1882 by John Bailey; the Jar vis Farm on 
Town Hill, bought in 1785 by Dr. Leonard Jarvis, and 
which has since been in the hands of the Jarvis family, is 
now owned by Russell Jarvis; the Dr. Samuel Jarvis Farm 
at West Claremont, which was a part of the terriiory 
claimed by the lone Indian, Tousa, and which is now occu- 
pied by Dr. Leonard Jarvis and ex-Consul Dr. Wil- 
liam Jarvis, sons of Dr. Samuel Jarvis ; the Breck Farm 
on the Windsor road, owned in 1792 by William Breck and 
since his death by his descendants, is now in the hands of 
Stephen Breck. This farm has been widely known for the 
breeding of fine cattle. The Nathaniel Goss Farm has 
been owned by three generations of Rossiters, Timothy B., 
George P., and now by Charles T. Rossiter; Highland 
View, the fine estate of William H. H. Moody, overlooks 
the village from a high eminence, which commands one of 
the finest views in this locality. 

The manufacturing interests of this town have been so 
numerous that it would take more than the space allotted 
for this entire article to give a good idea of both the past 
and present plants, so that only the largest and those which 
have been in operation during the last ten years will be 
mentioned. 

' The Monadnock Mills, with a capital of $250,000, 
Frank P. Vogl, agent, chartered in 1832, manufacture high 
grade quilts and sheeting. The employees number 450. 
This company owns over fifty tenement houses, also one of 
the largest gas plants in New England, which furnishes gas 
to the town. 

The Sullivan Machinery Company, J. D. Upham, 
treasurer, T. W. Fry, works manager, was started in 1851. 
The product of the Claremont plant is diamond drills for 
prospecting mineral lands, rock drills, air compressors and 








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CLAREMONT 119 

coal mining machinery. At the Chicago plant they employ 
about 250 men, making air compressors and heavy hoisting 
engines. The company employs in manufacturing plants 
and sales offices in various parts of the country about 1,100 
persons, and machinery is shipped to mining and quarrying 
regions throughout the world and to important contracts 
such as the Chicago Drainage Canal, Panama Canal, 
Niagara Wheel Pits and New York Tunnels. The number 
of hands employed at the Claremont works is 700. 

In 1883 Frank P. Maynard and Charles N. Washburn, 
both of Massachusetts, purchased the Home Mill and, in 
1887, the Claremont Manufacturing Company's property, 
where paper had been manufactured since 1834 under the 
management of Simeon Ide and, after him, his two sons, 
George C. and Lemuel Ide. These two mills were fitted 
up with machinery for the manufacture of shoes. The 
shops were extended, and a part of one of them leased to 
John F. Park for the manufacture of slippers. In 1893 
Mr. Maynard bought Mr. Washburn's interest and has 
since been the sole owner. The plant to-day furnishes 
work to nearly 400 employees. 

The Sugar River Paper Company, with a capital stock 
of #100,000 began the manufacture of paper in 1868. 
The erection of the dam and mill was superintended by 
John Tyler, grandson of the first mill owner here, men- 
tioned in the first part of this sketch. Mr. Tyler was a 
heavy stock-holder and was elected president of the com- 
pany, Mr John T. Emerson, agent, and J. Alonzo Pierce, 
superintendent. The property went into the hands of 
the Claremont Paper Company in 1902. They manufacture 
book paper of the same grade as formerly, and have 
enlarged the plant. 

A recent addition to the industries of the town is the 
Novelty Pearl Company, J. P. Carl Weis, proprietor, which 
occupies the buildings formerly known as Bailey's Mills. 

In the mills formerly owned by the late George L. 
Balcom, A. Roberts & Co. manufacture woolens. 



120 CLAREMONT 

The Sullivan Railroad, opened in 1849, was the first to 
be built through the town and became a part of the Central 
Vermont, and was afterwards transferred to the Connecti- 
cut Valley Railroad. It is now leased by the Boston & 
Maine Railroad, the principal station being Claremont 
Junction. This road gives Claremont access to the north, 
to New York, via Springfield and Hartford, and to Boston 
by the way of Keene and Fitchburg. The second railroad, 
the Concord & Claremont, opened in 1872, runs through 
the village to Claremont Junction. This road passed into 
the hands of the Northern Railroad and later became a 
part of the Boston & Maine system. This line connects 
with the Merrimack Valley system at Concord, N. H. 

At a point two miles south of Claremont village, 
Ashley's Ferry crosses the Connecticut river to Weathers- 
field Bow, Vt. It was chartered in 1784. The locality is 
picturesque and is often visited by tourists. About two 
miles above the ferry was a toll bridge connecting Clare- 
mont with Ascutneyville, Vt. This bridge was swept away 
by high water in 1902, and a ferryboat substituted. 

The many fine business blocks are a credit to the 
town. Most of them are located on or near Tremont 
Square. The stores being well stocked with first-class 
goods, much trade is attracted from the surrounding towns. 
Claremont owns a fine system of water works and also a 
model electric lighting system. It has electric car service 
and free postal delivery. 

Among the prominent and influential citizens the min- 
istry claims the Revs. W. E. Patterson and Charles S. 
Hale, Episcopalians; J. M. Wathen, Congregationalist ; 
G. C. Garland, Methodist Episcopal ; W. A. Tuttle, Uni- 
versalist ; V. V. Johnson, Baptist ; Frs. A. F. Simard and 
M. J. Moher, Roman Catholic. 

Among the physicians are Robert H. Brooks, E. P. 
Cushman, Emery Fitch, Leonard Jarvis, G. W. McPherson, 
Henry C. Sanders, J. H. Theriault, Clarence W. Tolles, 
Osman B. Way. 



CLAREMONT 121 

The attorneys are as follows : Frank H. Brown, county 
solicitor, Bert Chellis, Ira Colby & Son (Ira Gordon Colby), 
Herman Holt, E. E. Leighton, Hosea W. Parker, ex-mem- 
ber of congress. 

The picturesque surroundings are ever a delight to the 
inhabitants and visitors. Green Mountain in the east, 
Flat Rock and Bible Hill in the south, Trisback and Bar- 
ber's Mountain in the west part of the town, Sugar 
River, winding and beautiful, the outlet of Sunapee Lake, 
flows through the heart of the town, while just over the 
Vermont line Ascutney Mountain, three thousand feet 
above sea level, stands like a sentinel guarding not 
only the nestling villages of her own state, but also the 
neighboring New Hampshire towns which take just pride 
in her overshadowing majesty and the beauty of her 
ever-changing light and shade. 

A place possesses historical interest because of the 
character and deeds of its natives and citizens. As in civil 
life the men of Claremont have been sturdy and progres- 
sive, so in times of military necessity they have been among 
the first to respond. The town furnished a large quota of 
men, in proportion to its size, at different times during the 
Revolutionary War, and her soldiers were at Saratoga, Ticon- 
deroga, and with Stark at Bennington. Col. Samuel Ashley, 
Chaplain Augustine Hibbard, Lieut. Col. Joseph Waite, 
Capt. Oliver Ashley, Lieut. Joseph Taylor, and Lieut. Barna- 
bus. Ellis were among the officers who deserve honorable 
mention and, if space permitted, a much longer list could be 
given of non-commissioned officers and privates who endured 
the hardships of the struggle for liberty. The names of 
Matthias Stone, Joseph Rice, William Osgood, Stephen 
Higbee, Thomas Goodwin, Lemuel Hubbard, Asa Jones, 
Ambrose Cossitt, Nathaniel Goss, -'Bill" Barnes, Elihu Ste- 
vens and Ichabod Hitchcock appear prominently in town 
affairs at this time. These men served as a committee of 
safety, selectmen, and in other town offices, raising troops, 
collecting funds, and driving out the Tories. 



»- 



122 CLAREMONT 

Claremont was also represented in the War of 1812, 
the Mexican War, the Rebellion and the Spanish-American 
War. Among the officers who went from Claremont to 
the Civil War were Col. Alexander Gardiner (deceased), 
Capt. Charles H. Long, Capt. Edwin Vaughan (deceased). 
Officers to the Spanish War were Capt. Julius C. Timson, 
Lieut. Fred J. Miller (deceased) and Capt. Walter F. 
Walker. 

Major Jarvis Post, Women's Relief Corps, Tent Fanny 
G. Patrick, Daughters of Veterans, and the Spanish War 
Veterans are active organizations in this town. 

The town park contains a fine monument, surmounted 
by the Milmore figure of a soldier, in bronze, which was 
dedicated by the citizens of Claremont in 1869. Dr. J. 
Baxter Upham, who delivered the oration at the dedication 
in speaking of the response to the call for service in the 
Rebellion said: "... Major Waite set forth with the 
eighty-five patriot soldiers recruited by Captain Austin for 
the rendezvous at Concord, a full company, nearly, from 
this town of about four thousand inhabitants, and if the 
whole population of the state had been represented in the 
same ratio, instead of a single regiment of 708 rank and 
file, more than enough for ten regiments could have been 
had in the first call to arms." 

The early settlers of this town, like those of other 
New England communities, were men and women of stern 
moral and religious principles who spent their lives in the 
midst of hardships of which our generation can have but 
the faintest realization. Many of them were persons of 
culture and refinement, and some there were of high intel- 
lectual attainments. But all devoted themselves heroically 
to the upbuilding of a community among these New Hamp- 
shire hillls where they laid securely and permanently the 
foundations of this beautiful and prosperous town, of which 
her sons and daughters are justly proud. 




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Notes from a Landscape Painter's Sketch Book 

By J. Warren Thyng 

'EAR the close of a hot July day, we were sitting on 
the piazza of Wildcat Camp, when the schoolmaster 
said, "I've found a bonny Highland lad ; the story 
of this pocket in the hills begins with a Scotchman." 
Then, in the shadowy perspective of the wooded road, 
appeared Macdonald smoking a short pipe — Macdonald 
whose father played the Pibroch far in the north of Scot- 
land, where the waves of Moray Firth wash the rocks of 
Cromarty. And when the moon rose above the dark moun- 
tain and its light touched the encircling hills, even from the 
Bread Tray to Moosilauke, the scene which lay enchanted 
before us seemed another Scotland to the man from the 
land of Scott and Bobbie Burns. 

It was years and years ago that pioneer McDermott 
came from far away and rolled up a log cabin in the wilder- 
ness of Thornton Gore. Now sturdy McDermott has long 
been gone and little remains to mark the place where he 
built his house. He was an intelligent as well as a thrifty 
man; the land was good, his farm profitable; there were no 
woodchuck skins tacked up on his barn, but there were 
shingles on the roof. 

The wilderness howled in the Scotchman's day and 
generation ; the bobcat lifted up his voice continually and, 
late in the fall, when berries ran scarce and the cubs were 
pretty well grown, bears shook down his sweet apples. 
Deer were plenty as sheep in his pasture, and in time of 
peril came to his dooryard, not fearing assassination A 
few deer are there now, and there are men who can look 

123 



124 A NEGLECTED BY-ROAD 

into their great speaking eyes and take their lives ; then, 
even among Christians, boast of the act. 

In the fullness of time other settlers came, and the 
section became granted land ; but to whom I do not know, 
not having enough interest in the business to ransack the 
records to find out. Just now it is sufficient to know that 
the surveyor's transit and chain mapped out a fertile spot 
that to-day should be under cultivation instead of a waste 
land, on a neglected by-road, where the smoke of no chim- 
ney ascends, and where broken rafters and rotten sills are 
the melancholy token of many homes forsaken and for- 
gotten. 

If birthrights were sold for a mess of pottage, it is 
now too late to regret. 

This rubbish-filled hole in the earth, about which 
nature has drawn a fretwork of running blackberry vines 
to hide the shame of neglect and shiftlessness, was once a 
cellar ; and this flat stone, where an old-fashioned single 
red rose is blooming, was once the doorstep of some man's 
house. How keenly the fragrance of a flower may return 
to memory a perished hope! 

I counted twenty-five abandoned farms in Thornton 
Gore. In the piping times of their occupation there were 
two school-houses, a meeting house, a bobbin mill and a 
large saw-mill. The meeting house is gone — some one 
came and hauled it away. I well remember the little meet- 
ing house. It had queer box pews and singing seats up in 
a gallery at the end, but no paint anywhere. If the day 
was hot, and the sermon heavy, why you could look out of 
the window and see the great purple-blue wall of Moos- 
ilauke cool against the sky, with many green hills, like the 
waves of the sea, lying between. One day a minister came 
and preached from the first verse of the one hundred and 
twenty-first Psalm: "I will lift up mine eyes unto the 
mountains, from whence shall my help come." 

Now, as of old, the cloud shadows shift and wander 
upon the hills, light shimmers on distant river or pond, and 



A NEGLECTED BY-ROAD 125 

the perfume of wild flowers is finer than Parma violets. 

Windowless and doorless, the remains of the school- 
house stand at the foot of the hill, within a bow-shot of 
Wildcat Camp. Old Mr. Hart told me that he remem- 
bered the time when fifty scholars went to school there, 
and more than forty tax payers lived in what is known as 
Thornton Gore. The ruined mill, with its overshot water 
wheel nearly thirty feet in diameter — perhaps the last of 
its kind in the state — was for a long time an object of 
interest to visitors from summer boarding houses in the 
valley. Last year the rotten wreck, leaning heavily on the 
stone wheel pit, pitched headlong into the brook. Some- 
body hauled away the bobbin mill, and somebody else 
pulled up the planks of the dam and let out the water of 
the mill pond. 

Along by the neglected by-road other roads, now 
obliterated and lost, once led to productive farms. Road- 
ways and fields and pastures have returned to a state of 
nature. I found, in the deep woods, three miles from the 
remaining road, old cellars out of which trees nearly a foot 
in diameter were growing and becoming a part of the 
surrounding forest. Again, a crumbling chimney stack 
with a great oven could be seen, showing where some 
man's bread was once baked. Far back, in a dark recess 
of the wood, is said to have been the ruined cottage of the 
witch of the glen; but of her history, real or fanciful, I 
could learn nothing. - 

The neglected by-road, leading from Woodstock up 
through Thornton Gore, ends at the "Cyclone house," now 
a heap of broken timber. Tradition says that a whirlwind 
once picked this house up, turned it around, and left it 
uninjured. I have seen few landscapes of greater beauty 
than the view from a point in the lumber road near by. 

This is a trout country ; else the schoolmaster and the 
bookman were not here with me to-day. No less than ten 
brooks flow from the nearer hills into the valley to join the 
Pemigewassett ; and up here in the wilderness the trout 



126 THE LESSON 

have a chance to escape the natives' early hook. Now, the 
coarser sportsman, with "Dobson" and "Helgamite," may 
seek coarser fish in coarser waters ; but, after all, there is 
only one kind of fish — the brook trout. East pond is some 
five miles beyond Wildcat Camp ; here large trout are fre- 
quently seen — if never caught. 

The highway, near the Woodstock mill, turns sharply 
to the left and begins to climb the hills ,* on this by- 
road are a few houses in good repair; indeed, Mr. 
Nelson Brown has lately built a fine summer house on a 
sightly spot. Still, here and there along the road, are relics 
of the good old times ; orchard trees where no home 
is; wells to which no man comes for water; over-grown 
paths that lead to nowhere, and sometimes a house with 
windows boarded up. Then there is a queer little meeting 
house, with a tadpole steeple, where once they talked not 
so much of the dear Evangel of St. John as of the near 
coming of a Messiah. 



And now it had come to pass that the evening and the 
morning were the tenth day ; then the schoolmaster, hav- 
ing fried his last mess of trout, locked the door of Wildcat 
Camp. 



By Arthub J. Bukdick 

It takes a life of woes and joys, 

Of taking and of giving, 
Of smiles and tears, of hopes and fears, 

To learn that life's worth living. 




Rev. WILLIAM HURLIN 



Cfje 2£aptfete of ^eto ^ampsfnre 

By Rev. William Hurun 

Rev. William Hurlin was born in London, Eng., July 31, 1814. From 
his early childhood he was a great reader of history, biography, natural 
history, voyages and travels, science, religious magazines, etc. He was 
converted in early life and preached his first sermon in March, 1835, and 
for five years was a gratuitous lay preacher in London and vicinity. In 
April, 1840, he became a London city missionary and continued until May 
31, 1849. Then on account of ill health he came to this country with his 
wife and five children, and was pastor of Baptist churches in New England 
until October, 1878, when he was elected secretary of the New Hamp- 
shire Baptist Convention and held that office until October, 1900, twenty - 
two years. He still preaches occasionally. He married, December 25, 
1836, Miss Harriet Brown, who died December 30, 1905, having com- 
menced the seventieth year of married life. For many years he has 
resided in Antrim, N. H. — Editor. 



Xw£ 



ggfeS'ANSERD KNOLLYS, it has been said, organized 
\2ferr a Baptist church in Dover in 1638, but that is a 
Jfcr-^*ll mistake. It was the first Congregational church 
that he organized there, and it still bears that 
date. Before he came to this country, and while at Dover, 
he objected to indiscriminate infant baptism and to immoral 
persons partaking of the Lord's Supper, but it was not 
until after his return to England in 1641 that he became a 
Baptist minister. 

The first avowed Baptist that we know of in New 
Hampshire was Mrs. Rachel Scammon, who in 1720 came 
with her husband from Rehoboth, Mass., to Stratham. 
Here she talked freely of her Baptist views, and late in life 
she bought one hundred copies of "Norcott on Baptism/' 
and distributed them in and around Stratham, but there 
was no Baptist church formed in that town until after her 
death. 

127 



128 THE BAPTISTS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE 

The first Baptist church in New Hampshire was organ- 
ized in Newtown (now Newton) in 1750, and in 1755 Eider 
Walter Powers was ordained its first pastor. The members 
of this church endured much persecution from the mem- 
bers of the standing order. 

The Rev. Hezekiah Smith settled in Haverhill, Mass., 
December 1, 1764, and a Baptist society was formed there, 
January 1, 1765, and a Baptist church was organized May 
9, 1765, and Mr. Smith was chosen pastor. He was not 
satisfied to be merely a pastor at Haverhill, but he trav- 
eled extensively and preached in the regions beyond. In 
1766 he formed a branch church in Weare, N. H., which 
afterwards became an independent church. On June 28, 
1768, he organized a Baptist church in Berwick, Me., and 
some of its members who lived in Madbury, N. H., were 
some years afterwards formed into a separate Baptist 
church in that town. In 1769 he visited Hopkinton and 
baptized a number of persons and formed a branch church, 
which in 1771 became a separate church. In 1793 there 
was an extensive revival under the preaching of Elder John 
Peak, then pastor at Deerfield, and twenty-one were bap- 
tized at Hopkinton, forty-five at Bow and sixteen at Goffs- 
town. The converts at Bow and Goffstown were organized 
as branch churches of Hopkinton, and afterwards became 
separate churches. For twenty-four years four deacons did 
most of the preaching at Hopkinton, but in 1795 they 
called Rev. Elisha Andrews to be their first pastor, and to 
preach to them half the time. He also- preached in Lon- 
donderry, and formed a branch there of the Hopkinton 
church, which later became a separate church. 

On June 14, 1770, Hezekiah Smith baptized at Deer- 
field Rev. Eliphalet Smith, the Congregational minister, 
with his wife and most of the members of his congrega- 
tion, and on the same day he formed them into a Baptist 
church. Samuel Shepard was a young physician who, 
while at the house of a patient at Stratham, saw one of the 
books of "Norcott on Baptism," which Mrs. Scammon had 



THE BAPTISTS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE 129 

distributed. He read it and was convinced by its argu- 
ments, and on June 16, 1770, he was baptized by Rev. 
Hezekiah Smith who, on June 20, baptized fourteen per- 
sons in Stratham, and on July 18 organized a Baptist 
church in that town. In May, 1771 or 1772, Mr. Smith 
organized a Baptist church in Nottingham with sixteen 
members, and another in Brentwood with thirteen mem- 
bers, and both these, with the church in Stratham, were 
placed under the care of Dr. Shepard. Under his guid- 
ance Brentwood was made the central church, and the 
others were called branches of it. Other branches of this 
church were formed in Canterbury, Chichester, Epping, 
Hampstead, Hawke (now Danville), Lee, Loudon, Mere- 
dith, South Hampton and other places. At one time the 
whole of these contained about one thousand members. 
In 1773 a Baptist church was organized in North wood. 

While this work was going on in the eastern part of 
New Hampshire, other agencies were at work in other 
parts of the State, and Baptist churches were formed in 
Chesterfield, Hinsdale and Richmond in 1770; in West- 
moreland, 1771; Gilmanton, 1773; Marlow, 1778; New- 
port, 1779; Canaan and Rumney, 1780; Sutton, 1782; 
Dublin, 1785; Claremont, 1786; New London, 1788; Cor- 
nish and Troy, 1789; Hanover, 1790; Plainfield and Swan- 
zey, 1792; Lyme, 1794; and Conway, 1796. 

It may be stated here that Benjamin Randall, an unor- 
dained Baptist preacher, finding that his doctrinal views 
were not in full accord with those generally held by the 
Baptists, formed the first Freewill Baptist church in New 
Durham on June 30, 1780. As several other Baptist min- 
isters joined him, the new denomination spread and grew, 
and I think some of the Baptist churches became connected 
with it. 

In the "History of the Baptist Churches in New Eng- 
land," by Henry S. Burrage, D. D., it is stated that in 1790 
there were in New Hampshire thirty-one Baptist churches, 
twenty-three ordained and licensed preachers, and 1,732 



130 THE BAPTISTS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE 

members. In 1905 there were eighty-nine churches, of 
which seventy-six had pastors or stated supplies ; eighty- 
five ordained ministers; twelve, licentiates; and 9,566 
members. 

THE ASSOCIATIONS 

When the early Baptist churches in New Hampshire 
were organized, most of them united with associations in 
other states, the Warren in Rhode Island, the Boston in 
Massachusetts, and the Woodstock in Vermont. The 
Brentwood Conference was formed in 1776, and was com- 
posed of three churches : Brentwood in New Hampshire 
and Berwick and Sanford in Maine. In 1785 this confer- 
ence was reorganized as the New Hampshire Association 
with eight churches : Brentwood, Gilmanton and Northwood 
in New Hampshire, and Berwick, Coxhall (now Lyman), 
Sanford, Shapleigh and Wells in Maine. This arrangement 
continued until 1818, when this association was divided, the 
churches in Maine becoming the York Association, and 
those in New Hampshire the Salisbury Association with 
eight churches, six ordained ministers and 484 members. 
Before this arrangement had been made, however, two 
other associations had been formed in New Hampshire. 
The Meredith Association was formed in 1789 with five 
churches and 578 members, and the Dublin Association 
in 1809 with six churches and 343 members. Three other 
associations were formed in 1828, making a total of six, 
the present number. The Milford Association was com- 
posed of eight churches, five ordained ministers, and 720 
members. The Newport Association had eight churches, 
six ordained ministers and 901 members. The Portsmouth 
Association had six churches, five ordained ministers and 
720 members. In 1842 a small association was formed in 
the north part of New Hampshire with the name White 
Mountain Association. It had five churches, one ordained 
minister and 164 members. It disbanded in 1880, the three 
churches remaining joining other associations. 



THE BAPTISTS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE 131 

THE STATE CONVENTION 

While the associations served their purpose in the dif- 
ferent parts of the State, it was found that a more compre- 
hensive organization for the whole State was needed to do 
necessary work in destitute sections. For this purpose the 
New Hampshire Baptist Domestic Mission Society was 
formed at Concord in 1819; and it employed ministers to 
spend a few weeks at a time in preaching at different 
places, but it was felt that something more than this was 
needed, and after a preliminary meeting of delegates had 
met at Salisbury, October 12 and 13, 1824, and had decided 
that a state convention was desirable, another meeting was 
held at Meredith June 21, 1825, and a state convention was 
formed. But it seems that afterwards it was thought desir- 
able to obtain an act of incorporation from the legislature 
of New Hampshire, and therefore at a meeting at New 
London, June 27, 1826, this Convention was dissolved and 
a new one was formed under the act of incorporation 
approved by the governor June 22, 1826, which organization 
has continued until the present time. It meets ever)' year 
in October, with some church in the State, and is composed 
of the ordained ministers and delegates from the churches. 
The meeting in 1905 was at Newport, and that of 1906 is 
to be at Exeter. As there was no need of two organiza- 
tions with similar objects in view, the Domestic Mission 
Society was dissolved in 1828. 

The present officers of the New Hampshire Baptist 
Convention are: President, Rev. J. H. Robbins, Concord; 
vice-presidents, Deacon F. A. Hawley, Manchester, and 
Rev. M. F. Johnson, Nashua; secretary, Rev. O. C. Sar- 
gent, Concord; treasurer, Mr. L. E. Staples, Portsmouth. 
These with twenty-two other persons form the Board of 
Management. One of the leading objects of the conven- 
tion is to aid poor churches in sustaining pastors or stated 
supplies. Last year forty churches were thus aided to the 
amount of $4,370.26. A missionary to the French was 



132 THE BAPTISTS OF N£\V HAMPSHIRE 

also sustained, half of his salary being paid by the Amer- 
ican Baptist Home Mission Society, and a colporter with a 
gospel wagon, half of whose salary is paid by the Amer- 
ican Baptist Publication Society. The convention also 
employs a missionary pastor. The salaries and expenses 
of these three persons amounted to $1,715.20, making a 
total of $6,085.46. The convention obtains its funds from 
the voluntary contributions of the churches, and the inter- 
est from its permanent fund. The amount of this fund is 
now $132,161.80, of which $112,403.31 has been received 
from the legacy of the late Daniel S. Ford of Boston, Mass. 

. BAPTIST MINISTERS 

The late E. E. Cummings, D. D„ spent most of his 
ministerial life as the pastor successively of the two Bap- 
tist churches in Concord, and was for fifty-one years a 
member of the Board of Convention. He prepared a bio- 
graphical catalogue of the Baptist ministers in New Hamp- 
shire from 1755 to 1832, which catalogue contained 132 
names. Rev. William Hurlin, who was secretary of the 
convention twenty-two years, 1878- 1900, prepared another 
catalogue of Baptist pastors in New Hampshire from 1832 
to 1892, which contained 535 names, a total of 667 up to 
that time. Of those in the catalogue of Dr. Cummings, 
the last two died in 1895, viz.: Rev. S. Coombs, aged 
ninety-five years, and Rev. E. Worth, aged ninety years. 
Mr. Worth was recording secretary of the convention for 
nineteen years. Of those in Mr. Hurlin's catalogue, it is 
known that 353 have died, 174 are supposed to be still liv- 
ing, and eight have not been heard from for some time. 
Between September, 1892, and September, 1905, there 
have come into New Hampshire 112 other pastors, making 
a total of 779 Baptist pastors in 151 years. 

Among prominent ministers in the catalogue of Dr. 
Cummings may be named Thomas Baldwin, D. D., of 
Canaan, who was afterwards pastor of the Second Baptist 
church in Boston, until his death in 1825 ; John N. Brown, 



THE BAPTISTS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE 133 

D. D., of Exeter and New Hampton, who was afterwards 
noted as an author in Philadelphia until his death in 1868; 
and Baron Stow, D. D., of Portsmouth, who was afterwards 
well known as the pastor of several Baptist churches in 
Boston, until his death in 1869. Of those in Mr. Hurlin's 
catalogue who have died may be mentioned W. H. Alden, 
D. D., who was pastor of the Baptist church in Portsmouth 
for twenty years, and died in 1900 ; W. H. Eaton, D. D., 
of Nashua and Keene, who was a member of the conven- 
tion board for forty years, and died in 1896 ; King S. Hall, 
D. D., of Hopkinton, Manchester and Lake Vallage (now 
Lakeport), who was secretary of the convention for eighteen 
years; and Rev. Noah Hooper, Jr., of Exeter and Great 
Falls (now Somersworth), who was the son of Rev. Noah 
Hooper; and grandson of Rev. William Hooper, he died 
in 1896. 

The Pastoral Association was organized in 1832, and it 
was continued until 1878, when it was dissolved on the 
organization of the Conference of Baptist ministers in New 
Hampshire, which continues at the present time. One of 
its objects is to aid disabled and destitute ministers. The 
present officers of the conference are: President, Rev. 
J. L. Crane, Rumney ; vice-president, Rev. D. Donovan, 
South Lyndeborough ; secretary, Rev. J. H. Nichols, West 
Deny ; treasurer and statistical reporter, Rev. William 
Hurlin, Antrim. These officers with six directors form the 
Board of Managers. 

There are three other general organizations which hold 
annual meetings in connection with the convention and the 
Conference of Ministers, viz.: The New Hampshire Bap- 
tist Sunday School Convention, organized in 1867; the 
New Hampshire Baptist Historical Society, organized in 
188 r, and the New Hampshire Baptist Young People's 
Union, organized in 1893. 

EDUCATION 

The subject of general and ministerial education early 
attracted the attention of the Baptists of New Hampshire. 



134 THE BAPTISTS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE 

An academy in New Hampton, which had been established 
some four years, was offered to the Baptists in 1825 and 
they accepted it and made arrangements for carrying it on 
as "The Academical and Theological Institution of New 
Hampton." Rev. B. F. Farnsworth was the first principal. 
In 1833 he was succeeded by E. B. Smith, D. D., but it 
was found difficult to obtain sufficient funds and in 1852 
tMs school was removed to Fairfax, Vt. Among noted Bap- 
tist ministers who were students at New Hampton I may 
name F. H. Archibald, D. D.; \V. H. Eaton, D. D.; D. C. 
Eddy, D. D.; J. C. Foster, D. D.; K. S. Hall, D. D.; E. G. 
Robinson, D. D.; and Amos Webster, D. D. 

Although it was deemed necessary to give up the 
Theological Institution at New Hampton, the Baptists of 
New Hampshire were not willing to remain without an 
educational institution. Ebenezer Dodge, D. D., was pas- 
tor at New London, and he urged taking up the academy 
in that town. This was done and on August 27, 1853, the 
school was opened under Baptist auspices. G. W. Gardner 
(who was afterwards a noted Baptist minister in Massa- 
chusetts) was principal and he was assisted by Prof. 
Ephraim Knight. Miss Mary J. Prescott was head of the 
female department. This school at New London, now 
called Colby Academy, continues to be the Baptist school 
of New Hampshire. The present principal is Justin O. 
Wellman. He is assisted by a corps of competent teachers 
and "the future is bright, ' giving promise of increased 
usefulness." 

Were there space I might go on to speak of the numer- 
ous home and foreign missionaries who were born in New 
Hampshire, but I will name only three. Sarah Hall was 
born in Alstead. She became the wife of George Dana 
Boardman, the first missionary to the Karens in Burma, 
and after his death she became the second wife of Adoniram 
Judson, D. D., the first missionary to Burma. Moses H. 
Bixby, D. D„ was born in Warren and was a missionary in 
Burma eleven years, and was afterwards a noted Baptist 



.*■■ 






HEARTBREAK HILL 135 

minister in Providence, R. I. Rev. C. H. Carpenter was 
the son of Rev. Mark Carpenter and was born in Milford. 
He spent many years as a missionary in Burma and was in 
charge of the Bassein Sqaw Karen Mission, with seventy 
churches and about seventy thousand native Christians 
under his care. He was also president of the Rangoon 
Baptist College. After this he was for some time a mis- 
sionary in Japan. 



heartbreak IftU 

A Legend 

By Marion Hendrick 



There's a maiden of the wigwams, 
A brown maiden, lithe and slender, 
Daughter of the highest chieftain 
Of the tribe of the Algonquin. 
Strong is she as the young eagle, 
Straight and slender as the birch tree, 
Lovely as the dawn of morning 
Glowing rosy through its shadows. 
In her hair is seen the midnight 
Of the storm cloud in the summer, 
Eyes like pools within the forest, 
Placid, yet with depths of darkness ; 
Teeth that mock the snows of winter 
Hid by lips that vie in scarlet 
With the leaves of Indian summer. 
From afar there comes a stranger 
O'er the sea ; a craft unheard of 
Bears him on ; a bird of strong wood 
Flying o'er the sea with pinions 
White as snowbanks in the winter. 
Stranger still is this man's color ; — 
Paleface is the name they call him — 
Yellow as their corn his hair is 



136 HEARTBREAK HILL j 

And his eyes well match the wavelets 
Over which his good ship bears him. 
With goodwill they meet the stranger. 

Make him welcome in their wigwams, . 

Build for him and for his followers 
Lodges made of bark and birchwood, 
And he stays with them a summer. 
There the white man meets the maiden, 
Meets the handsomest of women 
Of the tribe of the Algonquin. 
And as quick there creep around them, 
As the passing of an arrow 
From the bowstring to the target, 
Chains of fire, those charmed fire chains, 
Forged by Love, the great magician, 
Drawing man and maid together. 
For three moons their love grows stronger, 
Binding each one to the other, 
Wandering hand in hand together, 
Through the pathways of the forest, 
Children of their mother, Nature, __ 

As the wild grape binds the treetops. 
But life's pathway runs not smoothly. 
With the autumn comes a feeling 
Of unrest upon the stranger, 
And his ship is soon made ready 
For departure ere the winter. 
"Grieve not, melting snows and mayflowers 
Will to my beloved Zeetah 
Bring me back an eager lover. 
O my woodland Nenemoosha,* 
~-"~ - - Let your eyes look not so sadly 

From the shadow of your dark hair, 
Lest within my heart a picture 
So unlike your own, I carry." 
Thus the lover going reasons 
And with this makes his departure. 
. Sad as is the wailing northwind. 
Silent as the white snow's falling 
Is the maiden all the winter. 
As the golden sun creeps northward 
And the leaflets burst their covering, 
Daily to a nearby hilltop 
Goes the maiden from her wigwam, 
Eagerly she scans the ocean. 
Sometimes hopeful, sometimes sighing, 
Till at length a second winter 
Spreads the earth with spotless whiteness. 
Then, her broken spirit passing 
To the land of the Hereafter, 
There they laid her on the hilltop 
Heartbreak called by them forever. 

♦Sweetheart. 



''K 




HENRY W. HEKRICK 



^tnvy W. derrick 

By John Foster 

Kyj^yEAR friends, I wish talk to you this fair May morn- 
S^Jp ing, in a familiar, heart-to-heart manner, of a grand 
*&*& old man, Henry W. Her rick, the artist and 
author, whose life through the many years that I 
have known him, and been in touch with his tender sym- 
pathy, has ever seemed emblematic of the gladsome prom- 
ise of the springtime, the smile of returning verdure 
and the fragrant glory of bursting bloom; a man highly 
endowed, strong as the sturdy oak though modest, un- 
assuming and beautiful in mental personality, as that pearl 
of spring air, the matchless Arbutus of May. 

My introduction may seem extravagant, but I assure 
you that those who have enjoyed the benefit of his teach- 
ings in the lines of illustrative art, and the many who have 
viewed with exquisite pleasure his reproduction of nature 
upon canvas will not allow that I have overdrawn. It is of 
Mr. Herrick, the neighbor, the man with an ever pleasant 
word and a loyal heart, as well as the all-round genius that 
I wish to talk with you this morning, not with the precision 
and currency of a magazine article, but with the genuine, 
soulful expression of an admirer. 

Henry W. Herrick, on the twenty-third day of August, 
1906, will be eighty-two years old. He was to the manor 
born, in the good old town of Hopkinton, N. H., where 
every morning the dome of Kearsarge cast its protecting 
shadow over his home, and I assert that from the surround- 
ing radius of fifty miles, which the old mountain watches 
and guards, has gone out to the world as much of lofty 
intellect, as much genius and power pro rata to its popula- 
tion, as from any area of similar extent in Christendom. 

137 



138 HENRY VV. HERRICK 

That sturdy sentinel has saluted the birthplace of a 
president ; the natal homes of statesmen and soldiers whose 
statues are now in the halls of fame; governors, congress- 
men and senators who served state and nation with honor 
and faithfulness ; artists, writers of prose and song whose 
works will last while our race survives. By no means least 
among them is our esteemed author and artist, the subject 
of this sketch. 

His father was Israel Evans Herrick and his mother's 
maiden name was Martha Trow. He has revolutionary 
stock behind him and a strain of grand old blood in his 
veins. He can trace his ancestry back to the fifteenth cen- 
tury, to find his family name identified with the times of 
Richard III. and the battle features of Bosworth Field. 

To meet him to-day, sit under the spell of his kindly 
eye, note the strength of the man, stalwart in form and 
massive in feature, one cannot fail to realize the sterling 
lineage and iron fibre of the old-time cavalier, and as such 
I would describe him : a cavalier, a knight of good deeds, 
ever brave and watchful, his gleaming sabre wielded by 
manly hands, and guided by a loyal heart for the support 
and promulgation of truth and beauty. 

Whenever a worthy cause has appealed to the people, it 
has found in him a fearless and earnest supporter and advo- 
cate. And so I wish to speak of him, not as a tiller of one 
particular delicious fruit, but as a broad-minded, large- 
hearted, fearless cavalier, defender, and promoter of all that 
is good and true and beautiful, much of which he has per- 
petuated with matchless artist skill in living, lasting colors. 

When he invites you to his home, don't fail to go. 

And there seated in his cosy study, 

Surrounded by works of consummate art, 

You may listen with entrancing pleasure, 
To the story of a grand man's heart. 

And his eye will brighten as he tells it ; 

And your pulses thrill with joy, 
As he gives in simple language 

His life work as a man and boy. 



HENRY W. HERR1CK 139 

Follow along the trail of honor and usefulness which 
he has trod for nearly seventy years. It will be a pleasant 
journey and you will not weary, for the path is bordered 
with shades of beauty, and here and there beside the way 
are restful bazaars of art and fancy which his genius has 
created that humanity might be elevated and made better, 
that this world life might be made to appear a little more in 
our conception like the world life to come, 

Where clear streams are ever flowing. 

And grand trees give grateful shade, 
Where ripe fruits are ever growing, 

And rare flowers never fade. 

He has created banks of flowers so exquisite and so 
perfect that it would seem a bee might find honey in the 
depths of their beauty ; wild birds in leafy bowers, oh, if 
they could but sing the glorious songs of morn ; pictures 
of nature, forest views, you may almost hear the vesper 
winds sigh, through the evergreen trees. 

The steadfast pines upon the hills, 
Ever green through heat and cold, 
Ever giving friendly cheer, 
Never seeming to grow old. 

The woodland stream, 
Flowing on with foam and spray, 
Heedless of the night or day; 
■ Splashing, bubbling, glad and free, 
Seeking ever the distant sea. 

The brook trout flashes thro' its wave ; 
The heron sounds his call; 
The wood bird sings his morning song, 
God's glory over all. 

Permit him to lead us where he may; he will doubtless 
guide us backward, far away where the milestone of life 
marks but the seventh or eighth year, and show us there a 
mere child, under the inspiration of a gifted artist mother, 
beginning with hope and promise the work which the Cre- 
ator designed as his destiny ; at first making simple 



140 HENRY W. HERRICK 

sketches in ink. A few years later he is painting upon 
ivory, in the water colors which have made him famous, 
miniature portraits, before Daguerre had his day, before 
photography was known. 

Steadfastly the ambitious youth pursued his chosen 
way ; genius, talent and resolute purpose were his beacon 
lights, and as we still follow this course and pass a few 
more milestones we find that the path grows broader, wood 
engraving and drawing on wood are added to the scope of his 
works. 

He is appreciated by the great publishers; he is 
employed by the Harpers, and his designs may be found 
through all their publications of forty years ago. The 
Great American Bank Note Company sought him and his 
original figurative symbols decorate many of the bonds 
floated by the government during the Civil War period. 
The Appletons employed him. Ah, this man who is now in 
the highway of fame is the humble boy who was born in 
the shadow of Kearsarge. How great are the possibil- 
ities of talent and intellect in this land of ours! The New 
York School of Design for Women sought him. He 
served that great institution four years as instructor and 
two years as principal. His duties here were in the line of 
his taste and culture. There was a perfect adaptation, the 
requirements were congenial, the service was to an eminent 
degree satisfactory. But the old cavalier spirit ruled ; duty, 
a small but sometimes a stern and commanding word, im- 
pelled him; he resigned his position that he might return 
to New Hampshire and care for his aging mother. 

He came to Manchester in 1865, and here resumed his 
work of designing on wood. The same spirit controlled him, 
always expanding and broadening the field of culture. 
Fascinated in the development of the water color art, he 
has given his latest and best years to its careful and minute 
study in portraying life and nature. How well he has suc- 
ceeded, the wholesome praise and admiration of the world's 
best critics will attest. 



HENRY TV. HERRICK 141 

In the finer shades of light and color, purity of washes, 
exactness of drawing and the truthfulness of his illustra- 
tions, in the universal exquisiteness of his work, he is with- 
out a peer. 

It would be presumption for a novice to assume a crit- 
ical inspection of his efforts ; they are the vintage of a life- 
time of patient study. Though native genius and talent 
are ever apparent in the fervid eloquence of effect, still 
these inherent gifts have been guided and controlled by 
studious thought. There are no random lines, no hap- 
hazard colors or shades, every touch of his master brush is 
made for a purpose, with view of obtaining a definite result ; 
every line is exact in proportion ; every variation of light 
and shade is a studied, thoughtful production. From his 
youthful essays on ivory to his latest peerless creations, his 
aim seems ever to have been at perfection in construction, 
and hence at truthful results. 

I cannot leave my friend without mentioning a few of 
his most praise-deserving efforts, those works of art before 
which I stood in wonderment and admiration on a recent 
visit to his home. 

"This," he said, "I consider my best figure piece," and 
he directed me to his water-color fancy of "Cinderella," the 
beauty of fabled story, and it would seem the tale of sis- 
terly jealousy must be verified, for there in feature, expres- 
sion and physical development is the perfect ideal of female 
beauty. 

While here as his guest it will be a pleasure for us to 
silently gaze and listen. He will call the roll of the chil- 
dren of his fancy and, as they pass in review before you, in 
the terse, chaste language of the artist, will tell you of their 
conception and development. 

With a pleasant twinkle of the kindly eye, he will in- 
troduce "No Dance, No Supper," a half-grown trick bear, 
with all the uncouth ness of his bear nature, performing a 
jig at the command of his master, that he may earn the 
tempting morsel held before him. No camera work here — 



142 HENRY W. HERRICK 

it is from life — bruin was there in the star part. He did 
his duty well, and if in his fancy waltz or polka step he 
slightly disturbed the tenets of the strictly orthodox creed, 
he gained praise and a supper for himself and contributed 
his humble share to the fame of Mr. Herrick. 

God bless the Deacon, God bless the bear I 

Each did well in his way ; 
And tho' the Church may not approve, 

The "Dance" goes on for aye. 

In the creation of the unique and beautiful design, 
"Gathering the Christmas Greens/' without a doubt Mr. 
Herrick intended to portray in truthful and lasting colors a 
memory of his early days in his native Hopkinton. Every 
person, farm boy raised, can recall a similar feature in his 
heart of hearts. 

The Yule Tide season is on, there is to be a festival in 
the ''school-house under the hill," a gift tree and decora- 
tions. Every girl and boy in the district is there in the 
forest busily gathering and paeking on the rude sled stores 
of evergreens. Even the beasts of burden, the half-trained 
(or broken) steers partake of the spirit of the spell. See 
the saucy toss of the "off" one's head, and the roguish 
twist of the "nigh" one's tail! Every feature of this 
remarkable fancy is in exquisite line and coloring, true to 
nature and perfect in technique. 

Many years ago this picture was printed as a full-page 
feature in Harper's Weekly, at a time when the cost of 
engraving alone was between three and four hundred 
dollars. 

But we must, though it be reluctantly, leave this 
reminder of childhood joys and pass to other ideals. 

In a niche of our friend's studio, his workshop as he 
calls it, is a most interesting collection, which has added 
much to his fame. 

A lover of the wild life of forest and field, a worshiper 
at Nature's shrine, must pause and say in his heart, "What 



HENRY W. HERRICK 143 

hath God wrought, what has He made that it is not possi- 
ble for his skilled child to picture!" 

Here is the tanager, of brilliant plumage but deficient 
in song ; the bobolink, whose raphsodies are the charm of 
the fields in early summer; the blue jay, the courtier of the 
woodland, a remarkable bird, beautiful, brave and garrulous, 
a sort of regulator and vigilance committee of our feathered 
tribes; the semi-domestic robin redbreast, a sweet singer, 
whose early spring notes are ever welcome; the Virginia 
quail, 

Which ever thro' the morning light, 

Sounds forth his call: Bob White! Bob White! 

The central figure of this bird group is suggestive of a 
pathetic story. There was a time, even in the memory of 
living men, when the passenger pigeon flight was marvelous 
for the millions which composed it. Vast flocks would 
reach from horizon to horizon with such density as to 
darken the sun. 

Flying, flying, ever flying, 
The cloud storm and the wind defying. 
With burnished breast and pinions strong, 
Swept the pigeon flocks along. 

The last specimen of this remarkable, but now extinct, 
bird that was ever captured in this vicinity was obtained by 
Mr. Herrick through a friend, and now perfect in picture 
life he sits here a gem of art, and in his seeming loneliness 
a sad reminder of that unquenchable thirst for destruction 
which controls mankind. 

These perfect representations of wild bird life were all 
produced at the request of Prang and copied by him in his 
famous natural history illustrations. 

Of course, to mention more than a limited number of 
Mr. Herrick's life vintage of choice works would be to 
refined judgment, perhaps, mildly objectionable, but I wish 
to call attention to two of the latest pieces, as yet hardly 



144 HENRY W. HERRICK 

dry from his brush, one life-size portrait in oil of the late 
Hon. William Windom, at one time McKinley's secretary 
of the treasury, and the other of his brother artist and 
long-time friend, U. D. Tenney, Esq. 

Further elaboration of merited praise might seem 
cumulative to the reader, but in justice to my friend, 
mindful that he has a trail behind him covering more than 
seventy years of earnest art study, I must say that it does 
seem as if the experience of all those years, the deductive 
results of applied genius on a mentality elaborately trained 
and highly endowed are pooled in full value to the develop- 
ment of these two noble efforts, making them, perhaps, the 
crowning glory of a gentle though brilliant life. 

He was a charter member and long-time president of 
the Manchester Art Association, and for years devoted 
himself to its interests with knightly courage, and this 
prosperous and now richly endowed institution, more than 
to any one else, owes to him its existence to-day. 

For when from out the darksome sky 

No sunlight did appear, 
He alone had courage, 

He alone gave cheer. 

He was president of the Manchester Historic Asso- 
ciation for four years, and some of its finest literary works 
have been furnished by him. 

In 1880 he compiled and published a comprehensive 
work on "Water Color Painting," and now has another vol- 
ume ready for the press, designed to be bound in royal 
octavo size, embodying the educational power of art, its 
elevating, enlightening influence, tracing a comparative 
analogy between music, language and art. This latter 
work, the result of the studious experience of a lifetime, 
will surely be a benefit and a blessing to generations to 
come. In the tone of his nature, the chasteness of his 
language and symphonic purity of expressed thought, by 
word or brush, he is the embodied demonstration of the 
truth he teaches. 



HENRY W. HERRICK 145 

His life has been crowded full of good deeds. He has 
been the earnest supporter of missions and charities, of 
churches and schools ; not a believer merely, but an arduous 
co-worker, and at all times an advocate of those institutions 
which were created for the benefit and betterment of our 
race. 

Many an artist, faltering, wear}', 

When the way seemed dark and dreary, 

Arose to hope and life and vim, 

At a cheering spoken word from him. 

Many a poor, discouraged soul, 
Sickened of his life's hard span, 
Found comfort, cheer and hope renewed, 
By kind words of this goodly man. 

He was for over fifty years connected with the City 
Mission as teacher and superintendent of its Sunday school, 
and in this as in every service that he has been called to 
render did his duty faithfully, and it seems to me that all 
along the pathway that we have followed his life has been, 
as it were, a mission to aid, elevate and save his fellowmen. 

He has been for many years an active working member 
of the First Congregational church and was for some twelve 
years a deacon. He married on November 8, 1849, 
Miss Clarisa Harlow Parkinson, with whose loving com- 
panionship he was blessed for many years. A souvenir of 
their wedded life is the massive silver loving cup presented 
by friends of the Art Association on the occasion of their 
fiftieth wedding anniversary, in 1899. Mrs. Herrick died 
August 16, 1902. Three noble sons live to bless his age, 
Allan E., Rev. Robert P. and Henry A. Herrick. 

He is gifted with a very retentive memory. Among 
his recollections of boyhood days was the visit of Andrew 
Jackson and Martin Van Buren to Nashua about the year 
1834. Mr. Herrick recalls with pleasure this occasion when 
he saw these famous men and heard their speeches from 
the balcony of the old Pearl-Street House. At that time 
the stately elm tree near the present storehouses of the 
Indian Head Mills was something of a landmark and he 



146 ASCUTNEY 

remembers watching the procession as it passed this tree, 
at which time he had a close view of the distinguished 
guests. 

In telling this story, of course I am forced to omit 
much of interest, for a volume might be written. I have 
done my best. All faults, errors or mistakes are of the 
writer, not the subject. 



Since the above lines were written, the great change 
has come. Mr. Herrick died July 30, 1906 As he realized 
that the end was drawing near, he expressed satisfaction 
that he could meet it in perfect confidence and trust. 

Though he walked through the valley of the shadow of 
death, he feared no evil, and goodness and mercy did follow 
him all the days of his life. 



M&utmp 



By Mrs. E. M. Wells 

In a low white-washed cottage, overrun 

With mantling vines, and sheltered from the sun 

By rows of maple trees, that gentle moved 

Their graceful limbs to the mild breeze they loved, 

Oft have I lingered ; idle, it might seem, 

Bat that the mind was busy ; and I deem 

Those moments not misspent, when, silently, 

The soul communes with Nature, and is free. 

O'erlooking this low cottage, stately stood 
The huge Ascutney. There, in thoughtful mood, 
I loved to hold with her gigantic form 
Deep converse; not articulate, but warm 
With the heart's noiseless eloquence, and fit 
The soul of Nature with man's soul to knit. 

In various aspect, frowning on the day, 
Or touched with morning twilight's silvery gray, 
Or darkly mantled in the dusky night, 
Or by the moonbeams bathed in showers of light- 
In each, in all, a glory still was there. 



A Plain Tale of Plain People, Some of Whom You May Have 
Known, All of Whom Lived a Third of a Century Ago 

By Georgb Waldo Browns 
[Copyright. 1906, by the Author] 

What shadows we are and what shadows we pursue ! — Burke, 



CHAPTER IV {Continued) 



JO|f LREADY had the gaze of the returned prodigal 



i^lb been turned upon the younger of the two women, 
"^2^4 and a look that betrayed the deep feeling he felt 
for the distressed daughter and mother came 
swiftly over his features. His first impulse was to move 
hastily forward to her side and disclose his presence, but 
this purpose he quickly overcame. As yet no one in all 
that assemblage had seemed to recognize him. In truth, 
the coming of himself and companion had not created a 
ripple of curiosity to sweep over the features of the simple 
folk around him, one and all intently watching the sale, 
with the exceptions noted. He had recognized a few 
among them as acquaintances when he had lived in their 
midst, but he speedily forgot these while he fixed his eyes 
upon this one person, whose memory next to that of his 
mother had haunted him through the many years of volun- 
tary separation. 

147 



148 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

"She has changed," he thought, "but not more than 
the rest. I should know you in any other crowd, Mary. I 
wonder if you will remember me. I have a mind to speak 
to you at once. No, I must wait a little longer. I must 
avoid a scene here." Then, not wishing to attract atten- 
tion to himself by any indiscreet conduct, he reluctantly 
allowed his gaze to wander over the crowd of spectators. 

A swift change had come over the scene, and the 
appearance of wearisomeness so plainly shown a moment 
before had now fled before that of awakened emotions of 
varied sorts. Women looked anxiously on the distracted 
mother and then on the stolid auctioneer* Two men trying 
to swap horses down at one side of the collection dropped 
the thread of their argument, and turned to gaze steadily 
on the scene in front. Even the unkempt and unfeeling 
whittler, paring away at his pine stick as if that were his 
only aim in life, ceased sending the long shavings flying 
down to his feet, and allowed his gaze to wander in the 
direction of the others. 

"My orders are to sell everything that comes along," 
retorted the auctioneer, showing displeasure by this inter- 
ruption. "A quarter, who says the half? Come, gents, 
hurry up, I can't blow my wind all in on this trifle with the 
whole homestead on my hands to strike off. The half I 
have ; who says three quarters ? Come, going — going — 
last call, and — " 

For the second time the cries of the distracted woman 
checked the speech of the salesman, as she fell upon her 
knees and turned her tear-wet eyes upon him, saying in a 
tone of intense anguish : 

"You may sell my home, sir, but spare me the bed of 
my little boy — my little Roy, that died." 

The spectators looked on amid a hushed stillness, and 
Jock Jenness, who never before had felt daunted under any 
circumstances, hesitated before resuming his sale. Then a 
voice was heard to ask from the crowd : 

"Where's Crafts? He's a heart of stone if he don't 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 149 

let the widow keep her trundle bed." 

"Crafts went away an hour ago,'' replied another. 
"Acted as if he was 'shamed of what he was having 
done." 

Seeing that the only man who had authority to stop 
him was not present, the auctioneer was about to conclude 
his sale, when the stout figure of Squire Newbegin stood 
in front of him, the onlookers having fallen back so as to 
allow him rapid passage to this position from the rear of 
the assemblage. 

"Hold on there, Jenness!" commanded the selectman. 
"Let Mrs. Temple have her property. If there is anything 
else she especially desires spare it and tell Mark Crafts to 
come to me with his bill. The law that willfully breaks a 
woman's heart had better be broken itself." 

A murmur of satisfaction went up from the crowd, 
while the florid face of the auctioneer looked redder than 
ever, but he made no further attempt to continue this sale. 
The next moment he was as earnestly challenging the bids 
of his hearers for other objects of doubtful value. 

"That is Squire Newbegin, I suppose," said Reuben 
Rover aside to Everybody's Sam. 

"Yeou can plunk yeour last cent on thet. But ain't he 
generous with somebuddy's else property. She acts so she 
was purty glad, by th' way she cries an' talks." 

The newcomer made no reply to this, but he continued 
to watch the other, finally exclaiming in an audible tone : 

'"Grown old like the rest of us. I wonder if he has 
forgotten the night he drove the party of boys from his 
orchard, and ran into a network of ropes set to catch 
him." 

"What is that you were saying?" asked Quiver. 

"Oh, nothing — I was thinking," stammered Rover, 
chagrined to know he had unwittingly betrayed his thoughts 
by speech. 

"How long has it been since you have done your think- 
ing out loud ?" asked Quiver aside. 



150 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

Meanwhile the voluble auctioneer had started anew, 
with characteristic bustle and flow of language that seemed, 
like the poet's brook, destined "to go on forever." Article 
after article of personal property was disposed of and above 
the cries and confusion of the scene rose a shrill voice bid- 
ding always on the cheaper goods offered. It was this 
same voice which had bid first a quarter and then a half on 
the trundle bed, though no one had taken note of it at the 
time. Leonard Quiver soon selected out the owner of the 
active voice, to discover a tall, slim woman, with sharp 
features, though her nose and chin appeared to be on the 
most friendly terms, as they were constantly beckoning to 
each other. Standing in the thick of the crowd she had 
managed to set around her a circle of articles and packages 
too numerous and promiscuous to be mentioned readily. 
She seemed completely unaware of those around her, and 
neither saw nor heard anv one save the man on the chair. 

"Sarah, I'll bet my bottom dollar!" said Quiver to his 
friend, who was too deeply engrossed with other thoughts 
to notice him. Reuben Rover must have been devoid of 
the attributes of the human heart not to feel at this time, 
under those peculiar conditions under which he had returned 
to the scenes and the companions of his earlier years, sen- 
sations that would be difficult to describe. It seemed 
strange even to him who had felt almost every emotion that 
the mind is capable of knowing to stand there elbow to 
elbow with the acquaintances of his boyhood and have no 
one bestow upon him a glance of recognition. But he 
would have been bitterly disappointed had he not been able 
to remain unknown, as all his plans would come to naught 
under such circumstances. With such conflicting feelings 
as no one else could have felt he saw the sale go on, until 
the auctioneer was handed a cheese box filled loosely with 
bottles of various sizes, all containing more or less of fluids, 
some dark and others nearly white. There were little 
boxes, too, holding portions of their original contents. 

"Ho, ho !" exclaimed Mr. Jenness, "here we have a 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 151 

medicine chest in truth, and filled with every known and 
unknown remedy under the sun. Here is a cure for the 
stomach ache, here a balm for a rotten tooth, a liquid 
labelled in Latin, a corn cure, liver drops, heart's ease, 
something for the colic, a plaster for the back. Here is 
medicine wet, medicine dry, pills and pellets, plasters and 
paste, cures for all the ills of the flesh, and how much am 
I of— " 

"Two cents!" sang out the shrill voice of the sharp- 
featured woman, looking longingly at the box and its 
contents. 

"That's where you lead in good judgment, Sarah," 
replied the auctioneer. "With this medicine chest at your 
command you can defy both death and Doctor Akerman. 
No offence to you, doctor, for no doubt you filled this treas- 
ury of curables from your own larder. I'm offered only 
the paltry sum of two cents for this storehouse of good 
health. Two cents I've been offered — come Sarah, you're 
a woman of good, sound sense, say four." She nodded, 
regardless of the fact that it already stood on her bid, and 
he rattled on without a stop, "four cents am I offered, who 
says the five? Who's going to get this for — " "Five 
cents !" cried Sarah, beginning to fidget uneasily. "Good 
for a woman that has good, sound sense ! Five cents — who 
says six? Come, come! I shan't let this golden oppor- 
tunity hang over you forever. Who says six cents for this 
treasury of good health? You nodded, Sarah? Six, who 
says seven? Now is your time; moments have fled and 
hours are fleeting. Seven from Sarah, who goes her one 
better? Don't let this golden opportunity slip by and 
then blame your doctor because he was an hour too late 
to bring you back from your grave. Eight cents am I 
offered by Sarah Gooseberry, who does not come to an 
auction to stand around like a block of wood." 

It could be seen that the promiscuous collection of 
countenances upturned to the man on the chair were 
wrinkled with suppressed merriment, and those of the 



152 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

spectators who had been standing on one foot to rest an 
aching limb improved this brief lull to change over upon 
the other foot. And the eager bidder, happily unconscious 
of the real situation, actually raised her bid to nine cents, 
and inside of as many minutes, led on by the fluent and 
audacious auctioneer, had nodded three cents more, when 
the elated talker declared, "and now I'm offered a dime and 
two, and for the paltry sum of twelve cents I must let this 
stock of good health slip away; twelve cents am I offered — 
going — going — gone! Sold to Sarah Gooseberry, and may 
she live long to enjoy her treasures." 

No more personal property being brought forward, 
leaving the bewildered Sarah to examine her purchases and 
meet the badgerings of her friends, Mr. Jonathan Jenness, 
without any loss of time, waved the rough baton he held in 
his hand, thundering forth : 

"Now, gents, we turn from all this frippery foppery, 
worth all together four-and-six, to real property. Who 
owns a home has a grip on earth neither the sheriff nor the 
squire can shake you from. Here's a chance for you to 
own one of the cosiest, prettiest homes in this land of fair 
homes. This gem of a cottage, with its six snug rooms, 
well lighted, well shingled, with a good old-fashioned chimney, 
fine yard, woodshed, well, and forty rising acres of land are 
offered to the highest bidder. No matter if it isn't but a 
paltry dollar, all this comfort and happiness is his. Now 
how much am I offered for this paradise? Don't be back- 
ward, gents, but step right up to the line and bid while you 
have a chance, never forgetting that the golden opportunity 
is fleeting, but there will be plenty of time for repining. 
How much am I offered ?" 

As the speaker paused to catch his breath, the sound 
of a woman sobbing broke the momentary silence, and 
Reuben saw a little apart from the crowd she who had 
claimed the ownership of the trundle bed. 

"It's going to be a hard blow to her mother," he 
thought, "I wish I could help them." 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 153 

A few inquiries of Sam resulted in explaining to him 
that notwithstanding the promise the mortgagee would not 
oblige her to sell, she had really been driven to this step. 
The claim, however, was really greater than the actual 
value of the place. In the midst of his anxious consider- 
ation of the situation the bidding opened, when excitement 
began to increase. 

"I am offered the paltry sum of fifty dollars for this 
grand, comfortable home. Why, gents, where are your 
eyes? Have you no more respect for the unfortunate 
widow who is obliged to sacrifice her home at the mercy of 
your cupidity?" 

At this juncture Reuben Rover was one of the few 
who observed a newcomer approaching the crowd, whose 
attention was fixed on the auctioneer. He was a well- 
dressed man, who seemed quite out of place in that gather- 
ing. Just before he reached the outer rim of the throng 
of spectators, he stopped to whisper a few words to a short, 
thick-set man, who had also just come. As he inclined his 
head to receive the latter's reply, a smile and nod of the 
head gave Rover the impression of satisfaction, and then 
he quietly mingled with the crowd. 

"Who are they ?" he asked of Sam, who had noticed 
the new arrivals." 

"The short man is Mark Crafts, who has the mortgage 
ag'in Widder Temple, and he's called awful close-fisted and 
sharp for a bargain. I don't know t'other chap. Yes, 
crackers and cheese ! He must be the stranger lookin' 
over the country t'other day — a gold specter or some sich 
name. So said Uncle Life." 

"What do you mean by gold about here ?" 

"Why, it's been found all erbout here. Job Rams- 
bottom kicked it up with his boot when he went to shoo 
off the jays on his corn, but he lost his piece. Lish Whit- 
tle says he picked up a chunk down in th' holler an' carried 
it home, an' he cooked it for a turnip afore he found out his 
mistake. Uncle Life says that's a lie, 'cos Lish is too lazy 



154 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

to cook anything. Others have found it. But Squire 
Newbegin is thet set ag'in th' teown thet he larfs when any 
one says anything erbout gold in Sunset. I heerd erbout 
this stranger lookin' fer gold on Widder Temple's farm, but 
I never heerd he found any." 

By this time the newcomer had moved within a short 
distance of the auctioneer and, beginning to clip off the end 
of a straw he had picked up with apparent unconcern over 
what was taking place, said in a hesitating voice : 

"Ten better." 

"Fifty— ten! fifty — ten! Only sixty dollars am I 
offered for this grand old homestead that no one ought to 
buy for less than a thousand. Why, gents, you can't build 
a house like this for less'n fifteen hundred with the lumber 
and nails throwed in. I'm offered only a paltry sixty; who 
makes it an even hundred ?" 

One of the few who had noticed the last bidder was a 
man a little past the golden circle of life, which fact was 
attested to by the silver in his hair and the crow's feet 
around his eyes, which were pale blue. He claimed that in 
his younger years he had been "good six foot in his stock- 
ings," but the weight of time had bowed his shoulders 
somewhat, so his army measurement had stood at only five 
feet and nine inches. He was a well-preserved man, both 
in feature and figure, and was passably good looking. What 
was better than all else was the pervading good nature 
illuminating each feature, though when aroused by any 
untoward action on the part of another this was quick to 
give place to a look of righteous indignation that told of 
the volcano of vengeance ready to break forth in an 
instant. As he saw the stranger drawing near, he 
nudged a companion, saying in a low tone: 

"There comes the buyer of the Widder Temple's 
place." . 

"What put thet idee inter yer head, Uncle Life ? D'ye 
know him?" 

"Only as the man who came lookin' for gold last week, 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 155 

and that he found it is as plain as the nose on your face. 
He's come to buy the farm, and by the way Kim Carter 
has started it he'll get it dog cheap.'.' 

Reuben Rover was standing near enough to overhear 
these words, and Sam's remarks showed ' that he, too, had 
caught their meaning: 

"Uncle Life has got his eye-teeth cut," he remarked 
sagely. 

The features of the returned prodigal suddenly lighted. 
Leonard Quiver saw that something unusual was upper- 
most in his fertile brain, but he wisely held his peace for 
the time. 

"Only sixty dollars am I offered for this jewel of a 
home," the auctioneer was saying. "What are you all 
thinking about at this time? Why, gents, this is the 
chance of your lives. Now talk right up and make this 
sixty-four an even hundred." 

"Sixty-five," said Kim Carter, the first bidder, slowly. 
Aside he was heard to say: "I reckon the squire '11 back me 
fer anuther dollar." 

In spite of the earnest entreaty and threats of the 
auctioneer the bid hung at this figure until he was uttering 
the word which should end the bidding, when the stranger 
cleared his mouth of the bits of straw he had clipped off of 
the stalk he held in his hand, and raised the sum five dol- 
lars. The only sounds that now broke the scene were the 
rapid words of the salesman, who kept on with commend- 
able tenacity in spite of the fact that the end seemed fore- 
gone. Uncle Life Story nodded his head knowingly, and 
said to a companion : 

"What did I tell you, boys. The stranger's goin' to 
get it 's sure 's gun. He'll make a pot out'n that gold, too. 
He's sartin < on what he's doin'. But of course he wants 
to get it's cheap's possible. Ha! sumbuddy's raised it 
five." 

"Seventy-five," cried the auctioneer, who had suc- 
ceeded in getting a nod from Carter without the latter 



156 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

being conscious of it. It was a way Jenness had, but it had 
the desired effect presently. "Come, gents, get a pace on 
you. This is slower 'n Paul Jones' old brown mare that 
fell asleep on the king's highway. Make it interesting ; 
make it a hundred." 

"One hundred dollars," ventured Reuben Rover, lift- 
ing his head and addressing the auctioneer for the first 
time. This seemed to disturb the latter more than any- 
thing that had occurred before, though he had only been 
taken at his request. But he rallied before the onlookers, 
not one in ten of whom had noticed the strange twain who 
had come with Everybody's Sam. 

"That sounds like business," shouted Jenness, striking 
the side of the house with his mallet so that the loose 
clapboards rattled and half a dozen fell clattering to the 
ground. "Now make it two hundred," and he fixed his 
gaze on the other unknown bidder. This individual showed 
plainly that he was nonplussed by this unexpected inter- 
ference. Before he made his bid, however, he looked with 
a searching gaze upon his rival and, muttering something 
under his breath, said : 

"One twenty-five." 

"Two hundred," declared Reuben Rover, looking on 
indifferently. 

The auctioneer now received his second surprise, .but 
rallied quicker than before with his bantering, adding now 
five hundred to the sum he had originally placed on the 
valuation of the farm. The spectators, as a unit, turned to 
see what effect this last bid would have on the other 
unknown bidder, who had been already summed up as a 
gold speculator. He did not seem abashed, for after wait- 
ing a moment he said in a clear, defiant tone : 

"Two fifty." 

"Three hundred," advanced Rover, thrusting his hands 
into his empty pockets and looking down the road as if 
something held his attention in that direction. The spec- 
tators now held their breaths. The auctioneer again 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW loT 

rallied. The rival bidder raised the sum half a hundred. 
No sooner had he done this than the irrepressible Reuben 
made it four hundred. 

"Fact an* quoth he, sir, it's just as I foretold," said 
Life Story in a triumphant tone. "The fellows are onto 
the gold ; what is is an' it can't be argified. I was in Cali- 
forny in '49, and I see — " 

The story was nipped in the bud by the loud tones of 
the exultant auctioneer, who cried : 

"Now you are getting down to work, gents ! Sunset 
ain't dead, no matter what they say up on the Hill. What 
d'you say, Kim Carter, another hundred?" This bewil- 
dered bidder again nodded, and the audacious auctioneer 
turned on the first stranger, who raised it fifty, when 
Reuben raised it to an even sum again before Jenness 
could search him out. The bid now stood at six hundred. 

"By hookey !" exclaimed a bystander, "ain't Mark 
goin' to make a big haul out'n this ?" 

"This extra won't go to Mark," said Life Story, work- 
ing his jaws vigorously over a huge piece of tobacco. "All 
he can hold will be the amount of his note. The squire an' 
I were talkin' this over only yesterday. It will be a good 
thing for Mrs. Temple, and this gold — " 

But no one was disposed to listen to him, so Life 
turned to watch the scene in front with the others. 

"Seven hundred," declared the stranger, for the first 
time. jumping up a full notch. 

"Eight hundred," added Reuben, and Jenness, looking 
toward Carter got another nod, making it nine, and before 
he could announce this fact Reuben Rover had advanced 
to a thousand. 

The spectators looked on with open-mouthed wonder. 
The jaws of the stranger worked vigorously at the straw, 
so that bit after bit jumped from between his white teeth 
and lodged in his long, luxuriant beard. He glowered upon 
Rover, but allowed the bid to rest until even the sanguine 
auctioneer began to tire and was about to close when he 



158 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

said, turning away with a shrug of his shoulders : 

"Two thousand!" 

Now the crowd opened its eyes, but the words had not 
been taken up by the ever-ready auctioneer before the ring- 
ing tone of Reuben Rover cried : 

"Three thousand!" 

This brought the stranger quickly about, and he 
exclaimed in a voice heard all over the yard : 

"What fool nonsense is this ? My bids are genuine, 
but I will not be balked in this maddening way. Auc- 
tioneer, I make it three thousand five hundred, and if 
yonder fool dares to raise it I will challenge his bid." 

" 'Whom the gods would destroy they first make 
mad,'" said Reuben Rover, sotto voce. "I believe I shall 
risk one more trick." In a louder key, determined not to 
be outdone in this game of bluff, he said : 

"FOUR THOUSAND— one half down. If .the un- 
known gentleman can't meet me in this with as good a 
deal, I shall dispute his bid and claim the property at my 
figures. Remember this covers every inch of the land and 
whatever there may be upon it." Scarcely had he finished 
speaking before the other fairly roared : 

"FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS, and every cent 
cash down. If that fool can go me better, I doubt it." 

It was evident the crisis had come. Jock Jenness 
fairly trembled under the great strain of the sale. Nothing 
like it had ever happened to vary the monotony of his 
long experience. Squire Newbegin moved leisurely to 
where Reuben Rover stood, and leaning over whispered in 
his ear : 

"It was the last straw that broke the camel's back." 

Before Reuben could reply the justice had passed out 
of his reach. But the warning was not needed. He had 
made his last bid. Without a cent, and among strangers 
without any credit to his name, he had accomplished an 
astounding result, and he was content to retire. The 
auctioneer, very red in the face and puffing from his furious 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 159 

exertions, kept up his high-sounding talk in a remarkable 
manner — remarkable in more ways than one : 

"That sounds like solid logic. Five thousand am I 
offered for this grand old farm, where five generations lie 
buried side by side,, and there is no reserve. It all goes, 
house and well ; timber and gold ; yes, sirree, and gold ! 
Who makes it six ? Wake up, Kim Carter ! This is your 
last chance. Make it six — make it a half — make it a 
quarter — make it ten!" but Mr. Carter had awakened 
enough to steal aside so as to escape the gaze of the bold 
auctioneer fearful that he might nod again unwittingly 
holding his head between his hands. "Come, come, gents ! 
this is murder ! A place like this going for a mere song ; it 
breaks my heart. Only five thousand am I offered; .7 ho 
says a quarter? who says an eight? who says anychi.^? 
Going — going — last chance — are you standing the: > ..^e 
clams for one minute to be sorry for it all your lives? (>>-■< 
ing — last call — gone! Sold to the gent -vith the long 
whiskers on my left, who knovys the value J --3 1 es ate ir. 
Sunset. Step right up, sir, and Squire i\e\/V- in # ;_ 
clinch the bargain for you." 

"If he doesn't I shall claim it at my bid," spoke up the 
penniless prodigal, who then turned to speak for the first 
time to his boon associate, who could scarcely control his 
feelings enough to keep a straight countenance. 

"Well, one person at least in Sunset has reason to 
bless our coming." 

"How dared you do it? But it was that gold fever 
that favored you." 

"A fig for all the gold in Foxcraft. Men are led by a 
rope of sand, and I will prove it to you before I am done." 

"Fact an' quoth he, sir," said Life Story to a little 
knot of listeners, "given certain facts an' we gain certain 
results. I have always believed in standin' by one's own. 
Though I can't exactly claim the honor of having been born 
in Sunset, I have always stood by the old town. Why, sirs, 
when it was first talked of as th' capital of th' state my 



160 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 



n 



m 



father, if livin' in another town, voted for it straight every 
time. Even when its own representative had been bought 
off with a glass of rum, he stood as firm as the rock-ribbed 
hills around it. When I look upon th' interest that has 
been taken in the old town here to-day by strangers, I feel 
my old heart bound. Sunset has a glorious future. In th' 
distance, but not so far away that my old eyes can't see th' 
glad sight, I see it the hub of one of the finest sections of 
country the sun ever shone on. I see flockin' to it th' . 
hosts of business an' of pleasure, the Mecca toward which 
countless millions flock to reap the golden harvests of its 
plains and its hillsides. I see fine buildin's standin' where 
now are onlv red shanties ; magnificent places of trade, 
fine- churches and school-houses, a rubble-stone" postoffice 
building, court house with marble floors and stone steps a 
yard wide. I see water-works and manufactories, I see 
parks, and palaces for men to live in. I see the iron horse 
[ tooting and blowing up the valley, bearing the commerce of 
nations. Then will be the eyes ofth' government turned 
upormis^as th' geographical center of power an' progress, 
and Sunsefwill be, as it should have been years ago, the 
capital of th' state. Ay, fact an' quoth he, sir, tardy 
justice shall be enriched by its becoming the capital of 
th' na— " 

While this eloquent prophet was making his startling 
prediction, an affair of equal interest and of far greater 
outcome was taking place. This was announced by the 
auctioneer, who had remounted his chair, and was saying : 

"Here, gents, is one more prize that was overlooked. 
It is marked one hundred, and I know it holds par value. 
How much am I offered? Start it at your own price." 
But the interest of the crowd in the auction had passed. 
Squire Newbegin was receiving the money for the place, 
and was making out the papers that should turn the prop- 
erty over to its new owner. Mrs. Temple and her daughter 
were feeling a pardonable exultation over the outcome of 
the sale, which had netted them a tidy little sum, where 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 161 

they had expected to be not only homeless but penniless. 
In their good fortune it proved that they had many friends, 
who were congratulating them most profusely. No one 
was left to take any notice of the voluble auctioneer, even 
the alert Sarah Gooseberry had silently departed with 
her purchases, so Mr. Jenness for once plead in vain for a 
bid, until a thin, cracked voice from the rear of the crowd 
piped : 

"One cent !" 

This bid was received with a cry of derision by some 
of the younger members of the group, and one of them 
shouted : 

"Where did you get your capital to put up your cash 
like that, Old Hungerford? Don't you hear him, Mr. Jen- 
ness? The town pauper has bid one cent for your treasure 
house. Why don't you strike it off to him?" 

It was a cruel, thoughtless thrust, and Reuben Rover 
and his friend saw that it was directed toward an aged 
man, who once must have stood head and shoulders above 
an ordinary person, but now bowed with years was shaking 
his trembling fist toward his tormentors. In making his 
appeal to the crowd the auctioneer finally. singled out him 
who had bidden so freely on the homestead, and he almost 
implored : 

"Make it five, young man." 

The article for sale this time was a small trunk, not 
more than eighteen inches in length by a foot in width. It 
had been covered with sealskin, such protection as was often 
used for the purpose in days gone by, but where the hair had 
not been worn off entirely it was short and shiny and yellow 
with age, except where it shaded softly into a light brown 
along what had been the back of the animal. Rows of 
brass-headed nails followed around the ends where the 
skin had been fastened. A piece of stout leather, browned 
with age and fastened with larger nails, also with brass 
heads, afforded the handle. Into this at midway had been 
set a strip of brass which bore two letters, "J. B." 



162 AN OLD HOME MESSAGE 

Without having the least idea what the little old trunk 
contained, Reuben Rover nodded and, glad to escape from 
the bid already made, the auctioneer started into a glowing 
appeal for others to bid, when it was announced that two 
horses were coming down the road at a terrific pace. Now 
nothing was quite so likely to catch his attention, and 
seeing the approaching twain emerging from out of a cloud 
of dust kicked up by their own heels, he shouted : 

"Last warning — fair play — going — gone!" verifying his 
speech in a double manner as he leaped to the ground, and 
bareheaded as he was, he ran down the road, where the 
majority of the spectators had already gone. 

(Begun in the July number; to be continued ) 



By Nellie M. Browne 

In the grand state of New Hampshire 
With her wealth of vine-clad hills ; 

Where the breezes whisper softly 
To the murmur of the rills, 

Stands the old historic township 

Dear to many hearts to-day, 
Who have wandered far from Homeland, 

But are welcomed back alway. 

You have sent the tidings outward, 
With your loving words of cheer : 
"Come, you absent sons and daughters, 
Come and tarry with us here, 



AN OLD HOME MESSAGE 163 

"While we talk of old-time memories, 
And we listen to the song, 
That now help to swell the chorus, 
As in days gone by so long." 

Are we thinking of the changes 

That anon have taken place, 
As we look with hope expectant 

Into each and every face ? 

We have all grown old together — 

Time has waited not for one ! 
But our hearts are just as buoyant 

As in days when we were young. 

Are there those oppressed and weary, 

Who would lay life's cares away ? 
Let them work their unknown missions 

With a cheerful heart each day. 

Let us say a word of comfort, — 

Wait and hope, the time draws near, 
When we all shall reap the harvest 

For what we have suffered here. 

. Every morn new strength is given — 
With a hope to calm our fears • 
Let us strive and help some other 
To roll back the burdened years. 

Life is like a path that's winding 

Through the future's misty day ; — 
Noble thoughts and deeds remembered 

Are our milestones by the way. 

Time may change and dear ones leave us, 
But he still this message sends : 
"Fear not; Heaven is nearer to us 

Than what we may think, dear friends." 



Cfje Otanoe ^atcfj 



By The Author or "The Woodranger Tales" 



Among the pastimes of the pioneers athletic sports stood in favor 
and canoe racing afforded great pleasure. The following incident, taken 
from "The Woodranger," describes a match that is supposed to have 
taken place on the Slerrimack, above Amoskeag Falls, in the year 1740. 
The principal actors in this match, though only boys then r in after years 
became some of the most noted men on- the frontier, numbering as they 
did Robert Rogers, chief of "Rogers' Rangers," William and John Stark, 
brothers who were active during the French and Indian War, and the lat- 
ter a general in the Revolution; Norman McNiel, of a noted family; 
John Goffe, the son of Col. John Goffe, scout and officer on the old 
frontier. The Woodranger was known far and wide as a trusty scout and 
wood ranger. — Editor. 

T WAS a still September day, an ideal day for the 
i)jpk canoe match. The sky had taken on that peculiar 
sapphire hue so common to the season. Never 
had the limpid current of the Merrimack shone 
clearer along the two-mile course where it moved with 
sluggish motion toward the Falls of Namaske. If the 
day was ideal, so was this portion of the sparkling stream 
an ideal track for the light barks of the rival canoeists. 

At a point where a bend in the bank curved sharply 
toward the west, cutting in twain the beach of white sand r 
a crowd of spectators had gathered to witness the great 
event of the autumn. A dozen feet above these twin knots 
of anxious watchers, standing on a wide, smooth breadth of 
land,— a natural terrace, — were twice their numbers. Under 
the giant pines, rearing their straight trunks from seventy- 
five to one hundred feet into the air without a branch to 
mar their symmetry, and tufted at the top with oval masses 

164 




THE CANOE MATCH 165 

of foliage, the view was extended and beautiful. A hun- 
dred yards to the rear the ground ascended abruptly in a 
far-reaching hill, which was covered with a heavy growth of 
trees. 

Not satisfied with such advantages as the others had 
obtained to watch the race, four adventurous boys had 
climbed into the topmost branches of a pine growing on 
the river's bank, and which some storm had so far uprooted 
as to cause the forest monarch to lean far out over the 
water. From this position a good view of the river was 
had for the entire distance of the course, so straight does 
the stream flow at this portion of its journey. 

It was now a quarter to two o'clock, and in fifteen 
minutes the race was expected to start. Both parties of 
the rivals were already on the ground, or rather water, the 
observed of all and the subjects of a continual flow of run- 
ning comments. All of the preliminary arrangements had 
been made, excepting that most important one of selecting 
a judge. 

In this anxious delay, though the time set had not 
fully arrived, the onlookers, as they generally do, got impa- 
tient. The two committees were besieged with questions. 

It was to be a three-mile race, the canoeists going up- 
stream a mile, and turning and going down-stream a mile 
below the starting-place. This rather unusual way of con- 
ducting the match had been decided upon from a wish to 
give the spectators the best possible opportunity to witness 
the trial. Both teams were claimed to be in fine condition, 
and certainly everything else was in their favor. 

Naturally, none were more impatient for the match to 
open than the contestants, who had paddled to positions 
nearly opposite the spectators, and were discussing the 
prospect in whispers among themselves. 

"Do you think we shall win?" asked Billy Stark, who 
was a little nervous over the trying situation. 

"Let us think so until we are fairly beaten," replied 
Norman. "Remember very much depends on the last 



166 THE CANOE MATCH 

mile. Don't get winded going up the stream, If Johnny- 
does get ahead of us, don't let that fact discourage you. 
It is the last part that counts." 

"And be careful how you drop your paddle," said 
Robert Rogers, who was not inclined to talk much on occa- 
sions like that. "You must not get ahead of Mac and me. 
Remember Billy, that we must move exactly together." 

"Ay, you remember those were the last words of 
Woodranger," said Norman. 

"I wonder where the old fellow is" commented Billy. 
"I believe I could do better if he were here. I had 
rather he would be judge than Captain Goffe. It doesn't 
seem right to have Johnny's father decide a race in 
which his own boy is captain." 

"That is why Captain Goffe does not like to accept. 
Captain Blanchard was asked but he said he couldn't be 
here. What is that cheering for?" 

Until then the crowd had been silent, but now a lusty 
cheer was given by those on the terrace, though the spec- 
tators below them remained quiet. The cause of the out- 
burst was soon explained by the appearance of Captain 
Blanchard, who had been seen by those from their elevated 
position before their companions. 

"I had rather he would be umpire than Goffe," declared 
young Rogers. 

Meanwhile a conversation of somewhat similar nature, 
though varied to suit the desires of the rival crew, had 
been carried on. It is, perhaps, needless to say that the 
Cohas boys were as confident of winning the match as their 
opponents. The spectators seemed about equally divided 
in their favors and hopes. 

"I tell you what it is, Mac, I'll wager my first fall pelt 
that the Namaske boys are going to whip 'em others !" ex- 
claimed a tall, bony looker-on, whose appearance showed 
plainly his place- of nativity. 

"Ne'er fear o' me taking ye up, Archie, though it do 
seem GofTe's crew air in deadly 'arnest," replied a com- 
panion. * 



THE CANOE MATCH 167 

"An' going to bite vict'ry right out o' th' Scotch boys' 
teeth !" exclaimed a third. "I'll take yer bet, Archie, ef 
McPherson doesn't !" 

"Done "was the quick rejoinder of the first speaker. 
"I'm sure o' doubling my game." 

"Th' Goffes were never beaten !" interjected another. 
"See w T hut a breadth o' chist Johnny has. Jis' like his 
father. An' sich forearms ! Then there's Jimmy ! Jimmy's 
going to last till th' last stroke. Ah, Cap'n Goffe' knowed 
who to pick. With him fer judge we'e sure!" 

"Avaunt wi' yer nonsense ! Whut's Johnny Goffe's 
brawn compared to young McNiel's arm ? Mac can take 
one in each hand an' flip their heels togither. Whut's 
Johnny's craft compared to Robby Rogers' cunning? 
Robby is Woodranger's favorite and trained in his ways. 
Them two air th' boys fer me. But whut air the commit- 
tees doing now? Why be they buzzing Cap'n Blan- 
chard so ?" 

The committees were urging Captain Blanchard to 
accept the position of judge of the race, when a louder 
cheering than any before broke upon the scene, the wild 
cries prolonged into a series of huzzas which rang far and 
wide up and down the river. Nor had they far to look for 
the explanation, for a canoe, skimming the water with bird- 
like swiftness, and holding the well-known figure of the 
Woodranger, was to be seen near at hand. 

The chairman of the committee at once beckoned to 
the forester, who sped his light craft near to the anxious 
group. 

"You're the one we've been looking and waiting for, 
Woodranger. We want you to act as judge of the match. 
You're better versed in canoeing than any of us, and you're 
just the one to decide the race." 

To the surprise and disappointment of all, the forester 
shook his head. 

"I durst not do it, man, I durst not do it. Varsed in 
the ways o' dipping a paddle I may be, and though it be not 



168 THE CANOE MATCH 

proper for me to say it, I may have picked up the knack o' 
the red man's cunning. But there be personal p'ints in 
this matter, which would make it an indiscretion for me to 
meddle. I might be accused, and mind you I say not with- 
out reason, o' partiality. Robby, you mus' remember, is 
my pupil in the great school o' natur'. And the lad, 
McNiel, — but I need not detail my mind. They're six 
likely lads, and I love and respect them all. I thought 
mebbe I'd sort o' trail along behind, and if anything — 
mind you, I say if anything unforseen does happen, — not 
that I'm expecting it, — I'll be near to lend a helping hand. 
More'n that I durst not undertake. I cannot dissemble ; 
I'm neutral in this matter." 

Understanding that it would be useless to urge the 
Woodranger to do what his judgment did not dictate, the 
committee then pressed Captain Blanchard to accept the 
trust. The latter did not hesitate , after finding that their 
first choice could not be pressed into service. His accept- 
ance was very agreeable to both sides, for though the Pro- 
prietors' clerk of Tyng Township at the time, he was 
known to be always fair in his dealings with both factions. 

No sooner was this decision reached than Chairman 
Hall jumped upon a handy stump, and shouted so as to be 
heard by every one : 

"Arrangements completed. Squire Blanchard will 
decide the race. Are you in the canoes ready for the 
word ?" 

"Ready!" rang out the word in six voices, as if spoken 
by one, falling clearly on the profound silence which had 
now bound the spectators. 

"Ready it is, then. Time! One, two, three — go!" 

So well had the starter timed himself that it was exactly 
two o'clock by Captain Blanchard's watch as the signal was 
given. 

As one the six paddles dropped into the water, and 
side by side the two canoes shot up the stream, while loud, 
prolonged cheers from the spectators made the woods 
ring. 



THE CANOE MATCH 169 

"It were a fair start and above discussion," said the 
Woodranger to himself, as he sent his light bark in the 
silvery track of the rival canoes. "I'm afeerd Robbyhas set 
a stroke that '11 puzzle 'em to hold to the eend. Three 
miles ain't like spinning a few yards for fun. But, Lordy's 
me ! how I do take on, and the race only begun." 

It was a beautiful sight to witness, to see the six pad' 
dies rise and fall with such automatic precision that they 
seemed to be moved by machinery, while the heads and 
bodies of the canoeists rose and sank with equal regularity. 
After the first outburst the crowd again became silent, 
and, except the splash of a paddle now and then, as one of 
the crew failed to feather the edge as he wished, not a 
sound broke the stillness of the autumn air. 

But is was soon evident that the boys of Cohas were 
gaining on the others. At first the spectators were in 
some doubt of this, but it soon became certain, even to the 
most skeptical. Renewed cheering was then begun, though 
only the friends of the English boys now did the shouting. 

"What'd I tell ye!" cried an over-zealous admirer. 
"Johnny Goffe is sure to come in ahead. Huarah for the 
boys o' Cohas !" 

Others took up the cry, until it rang far and wide, 
encouraging the three from the lower settlement to greater 
exertions. Woodranger, hearing the cries and realizing the 
situation, shook his head. 

•Straight as a bee-line did the canoes speed up the river 
toward the buoy in the middle of the stream, around which 
they were expected to pass and then return to the goal two 
miles down the watery course. The boys of Cohas were 
showing themselves to be of true metal, as well they might 
and should, for the work they were destined to perform in 
later years. Every one of the three earned a name that 
for border sagacity and intrepidity still lives in colonial his- 
tory. Johnny Goffe, well worthy of the name of his father, 
who trained John Stark in the manual of arms and was 
General Sullivan's master of tactics, sufficient honor for 



' 






170 THE CANOE MATCH 

one, to say nothing of his own proud career, had set the 
stroke for his crew; and if it were begun at a tremendous 
pace, he showed no signs of faltering, as slowly, inch by 
inch, yard by yard, they continued to gain on their rivals. 
At the turning-point, as they swung silently and swiftly 
around the buoy, the boys of Cohas were three canoe 
lengths in the lead. 

Some of the spectators had followed as near as they 
could in canoes, while others had tried to keep the race in 
sight by running along the bank. Foremost of all flew the 
Woodranger, casting furtive glances, ever and anon, 
toward the rivals. 

"The boys of Cohas have turned the buoy four rods 
ahead !" some one shouted and, others catching up the cry, 
it. rang from throat to throat until it was heard from start 
to finish. 

"The boys from Cohas lead — the race is theirs ! 
Hurrah for the Tyng boys! Hurrah for Johnny Goffe !" 

If the latter was getting the lion's share of the praise, 
he was the coolest of the trio. 

"Well done, my hearties!" he cried, as they sent the 
canoe head down the stream. "It will be easier now, and 
we ought to win!" 

"We will!'' exclaimed Jimmy Hazard, from between 
his clenched teeth. But, while he would not own it to him- 
self he was sorely tried with the long up-pull. 

If the boys of Namaske felt any undue anxiety, they 
did not show it, but continued to rush ahead with a stroke 
which their rivals did not equal for precision and silence, 

"They handle their paddles like Indians," said the 
Woodranger to himself, paying them the highest compli- 
ment he could. But shaking his head, he resumed, "I 
have strange misgivings. I hope they have not committed 
an indiscretion by letting the others get so far ahead of 
them. No — no! it cannot be. Alack! how childish I am 
getting to be." 

Now that the canoes had turned the upper end of the 



THE CANOE MATCH 171 

course, there was a scramble on the part of the spectators 
to get where they could best- witness the close struggle 
they believed must take place on the last quarter. Captain 
Blanchard, in a canoe, had already stationed himself where 
he could command a close view of the finish, the critical 
point in the trial. 

The boys of Cohas, confident of victory, and with 
the strength such confidence gives, were still sending their 
canoe gliding over the water at an amazing rate of speed. 
their friends now continually urging them on with exultant 
cries. 

Neither were the bovs of Namaske idle. Thev 
realized that it would not do for them to allow their rivals 
to gain another foot, and as they swept around the buoy 
they quickened their movements, soon lessening the dis- 
tance between them and the others. So closely were the 
spectators watching them, that even the fraction gained 
was noticed, and the Scotch-Irish improved their oppor- 
tunity to cheer. But their cries were drowned by renewed 
yells from the others, who felt that the honors belonged to 
them. 

• "Robby has a good arm for a lad o' his age," solilo- 
quized the Woodranger, as he witnessed the spurt of those 
whom it was plain he favored in spite of his wish to remain 
neutral; "but he's too young to hold out to the eend. I'm 
much afeerd — alack a man! why will I fill my ol' mind with 
sich foolishness. They are ail likely lads, and the best 
must win." 

As one better versed in canoeing, as well as all phases 
of wildwood life, Norman had gladly consented to allow 
Robby Rogers, though younger than himself, to be the 
leader of their crew ; but now he was beginning to think 
the boy ranger was making a mistake in not giving their 
rivals a closer pull at the outset. It was true he felt as fresh 
as at the opening, but of what avail would be all of their 
reserved energy if they delayed too long the effort to 
recover the distance they had lost? Certainly it would 



172 THE CANOE MATCH 

soon be too late for them to hope to gain the victory. 
Filled with these thoughts, he said, in a low tone, but 
plainly heard by the others : 

"Has not the time come for us, Rob ?' r 

The reply came in a clear tone : 

"Quicker — deeper, lads!" 

Then something of the reserved strength of the three 
was brought into action. The paddles flashed forth a con- 
tinual stream of sunlight, while the silvery trail behind the 
flying" canoe was unbroken for a long distance. Their 
friends on the river bank, realizing the change, gave an 
encouraging cheer. This was drowned, however, by the 
shouts of the Tyng party, who seemed determined to do 
all the applauding. 

Johnny Goffe caught something of the meaning of 
this new outburst on the part of the Cohas party, and he 
endeavored to arouse his companions to still more effective 
work. Then, for the first time, he learned that his crew 
had begun to feel the effect of their overtaxed strength. 
But this did not disconcert him. With the advantage they 
had already won, it was only necessary for them to hold 
their own now. He never doubted their ability to do that. 

It was a beautiful sight to see the rival canoes skim- 
ming the silvery current like twin birds, the swift-mov- 
ing paddles looking not unlike the white wings of a pair of 
snowy swans. If the friends of the boys of Namaske 
boasted that their champions had begun to gain on the 
Cohas crew, the admirers of the latter claimed that it was 
not enough to give them any alarm. The Woodranger, than 
whom no one had watched the contest closer or with nicer 
calculation, knew that half a canoe's length had been taken 
from the gap lying between the two crafts. 

Two thirds of the distance had now been made, and 
both crews were apparently doing their best. Slowly but 
surely the boys of Namaske were overhauling the others. 
As this became certain, all cheering ended, as if the situ- 
ation was now too momentous for any display of feeling, 



THE CANOE MATCH 173 

and every one stood in silence, intently watching the race. 
With the skill and rapidity which seemed to be a sort of 
second nature to him, the Woodranger was keeping almost 
abreast of the rivals, when he thus was the first to see the 
disaster which befell the rear crew. 

Suddenly, as Billy Stark plied his paddle with increas- 
ing power, a sharp crack, sounding like the report of a fire- 
arm, rang loud and clear, and he reeled over as if shot, and 
fell in the bottom of the eanoe. Nearly every spectator 
thought he had been shot, and cries of horror were heard 
in every direction. 

But there had been no gunshot, no foul play, as far as 
any person was concerned. Instead, an accident had 
occurred almost as disastrous, as far as the match seemed 
concerned. His paddle had snapped asunder under his 
great exertions, sending him upon his back at the feet of 
his companions. 

The frail bark careened, and as Norman and Rob 
realized the disaster to their assistant, both felt that their 
hopes were lost. In the face of such odds they could not 
hope to win. 

"It's no use — our race is over !" gasped Rob. He had 
hardly given utterance to the hopeless words, when a clarion 
voice rang over the water, crying: 

"The brave never give up!" 

It was the Woodranger who uttered the stirring declar- 
ation, and the words came like an inspiration to Norman 
McNiel, who quickly rallied, saying to his companion : 

"Don't give up, Rob ! We must win !" 

It was fortunate then they were comparatively as fresh 
as at the outset. The exertions of the race so far had only 
served to temper the vigor in their strong limbs. Rob 
Rogers instantly threw off his fears, and, himself again, he 
handled his paddle as he had never done before. Norman 
had already set the example, and as if the strength of two 
Billy Starks had been imparted to their arms, they sent the 
canoe ahead like an arrow sprung from a bow with giant 



174 THE CANOE MATCH 

power. Before the spectators had recovered from their 
surprise enough to realize what had taken place, the two 
boys had covered half of the distance between them and 
their rivals. 

It was true it was now two against three, but they 
seemed possessed of the strength of four. The scene 
which followed held the onlookers dumb with wonder. In 
his excitement Lige Bitlock climbed so far out on his perch 
that the branch beneath him broke with a loud snap, send- 
ing him headforemost into the water. But no one heeded 
his cries or appeals for help, while he floundered in the 
river. Every eye and every thought were concentrated on 
a more stirring sight. 

Johnny Goffe heard and realized enough to know that 
something had befallen his opponents, but he felt that it 
must have been to their advantage, for he found that they 
were gaining on him faster than ever. 

"They must not — they shall not beat us!" he cried. 
"On, Jimmy, Willy, win or die !" 

It was a stirring appeal, but Jimmy Hazard was too 
worn out to rally successfully, while his companions lacked 
the iron will and reserved strength of the sturdy limbs of 
Norman McNiel and Robert Rogers. Swifter and swifter 
this couple sent their light craft onward toward the goal, 
gaining on their rivals at every bite of the paddle. Nearer 
and nearer they flew, foot by foot, yard by yard, until they 
were now abreast ! 

But both were now down close to the finish line. The 
Tyng spectators still believed and hoped that their cham- 
pions could hold their own for the short distance left. 

"Hold 'em a jiffy, Johnny !" yelled an excited onlooker. 
"Don't let 'em get ahead. Hurrah for the boys of 
Cohas!" 

The other side was silent, breathless, during that brief 
interval of fearful suspense. 

With the cries of frenzied spectators ringing in their 
ears, with such wild energy in their limbs as they had never 



THE MOUND BUILDERS 175 

known, Norman and Rob sent their canoe ahead of the 
boys of the Cohas. The next moment they crossed the line 
four yards in the lead of their rivals. 

The boys of Namaske had won ! What cheering fol- 
lowed ! Never was such a scene witnessed on the banks 
of the Merrimack River, never, unless in the unwritten 
history of the red men some such race has been made 
and won by the dusky champions of the birchen skiff. 
The Scotch-Irish shouted until they were hoarse, and 
shouted still, when hardly an articulate sound left their lips. 
Let it be said to their credit, the Tyng colonists acted a 
most generous part. 



Cfje ^prjtmfo ^utlber* 



By Thomas C Harbaugh 



In Carroll county are to be found yet the earth structures of a mystic 
race, designated for the want of a more definite name as the Mound 
Builders. This strange people that must have lived here before the 
Amerinds, left no trace of history or tradition to speak of their origin or 
fate, and their story is a sealed book. — Editor. 



They lived in the past that is misty and dim, 
They loved and they built by the rivulet's brim, 
They melted away like the snow in the sun 
Where down to the ocean the swift rivers run ; 
The mounds that they reared are their tablets to-day, 
But they, as a people, have vanished away, 
And the river flows on with its music of old, 
But the Mound Builder's story to-day is untold. 



176 THE MOUND BUILDERS 



He went ere the Indian invaded the wild, 

The forest's unknowable, mystical child, 

The chieftains who came with the spear and the plume 

Saw only the mounds 'mid the forest's deep gloom ; 

No graves of the race that forever was gone, 

No tombs in the starlight and none in the dawn, 

No echoes of voices that rang with delight, 

No laughter of children that greeted the night. 



His secret is kept by the years that have fled 

Where once by his altars he mourned for his dead. 

And thousands have come from the oversea lands 

To marvel and gaze at the work of his hands ; 

The sky is as blue as in days long ago 

Where deep in the forest he bended his bow, 

And the wild roses bloom where the Mound-Builder maid 

Went forth to the lover who haunted the glade. 



The centuries come and the centuries go, 

The Mound Builder sleeps 'neath the rain and the snow, 

The book of his life not a mortal has scanned, 

And nothing is left but the skill of his hand ; 

He came and he vanished, his hopes and his fears 

Are hidden fore'er in the heart of the years, 

And the rivulet glints where he fretted his day 

And left to the ages a mystery gray. 




^fje Oftutor's; ^tnbotD 

Our esteemed contributor, Col. Lucien Thompson, in 
a personal communication relating to the "Romance of 
Ocean Mary," and asking for information in regard to 
James Wilson, says : 

John and Elizabeth (Wilson) Ker, Scotch-Irish emigrants, came to 
Chester, N. H., in 1736, bringing with them a valuable testimonial* of 
their moral worth from their pastor in Ireland, of which the following is 
an exact copy from the original : 

"That John Ker and his wife Elizabeth Wilson lived within the 
bounds of this Congregation from their Infancy, behaveing themselves 
soberly, honestly and piously, free from any Publick Scandall, so that they 
may be received as members of any Christian Congregation or Society 
where God in Providence may order their lott, is Certified at Ballywollen, 
June 23, 1736 by "Ja: Thomson/' 

John (2) Ker (or Carr), son of John and Elizabeth Wilson Ker, was 
born the next year in Chester, N. H., January 17, 1737, married December 
15, 1763, Mary Wilson, who was born in July, 1735, an< ^ died April 3, 
1828. They removed in 1764 to Candia, where they built a house sup- 
posed to be the oldest in Candia, known to the old people now living in 
Candia as the Nathan Carr house. They had a son, John (3) Carr, born 
March 30, 1769, Candia, N. H.; married, August 4, 1791, Elizabeth Mur- 
ray, bom July 29, 1770, and settled in Springfield, N. H. 

Among my ancestors were John McCrillis, who married Margaret 
Burnside (about 1700) in Londonderry, Ireland. In that place all their 
children were born. They were of Scotch parentage. After the death of 
his wife, John McCrillis came to America with six of his children, if 
no more, leaving behind one married daughter, Mrs. Jean Henrie or 
Henry, They sailed from Port Rush August 7, 1726, together with other 
Scotch-Irish emigrants, such as the McClarys, Harveys, Kelseys and 
Simpsons (all of whom settled in Nottingham), and arrived at Boston 
October 8 following. John McCrillis settled in Nottingham, N. H., as 
early as 1734. 

Among my ancestors were William Kelsey, who married Margaret 
Haras early as 1719, both natives of Ireland but of Scotch parentage, 
who came from Marthacreggin, Ireland, who came with the McCrillis fam- 
ily in 1726 and who bought land in Nottingham in 172S, where they settled 
in 1733-34. Their daughter, Jean Kelsey, born May 1, 1720, in Martha- 
creggin, Ireland, came over with her parents, a girl six years of age, who 
married William McCrillis, a son of Johnt and Margaret (Burnside) 



♦Original testimonial is in the possession of Lucien Thompson of Durham, great-great- 
great-grandson of John Ker and his wife. Elizabeth Wilson. The descendants write their 
name Carr. 

fjohn McCrillis was the ancestor of Mrs. Alger, wife of United States Senator Alger, 
who has been governor of Michigan and secretary of war. 



178 the editor's WINDOW 

McCrillis- She had a brother, Hugh Kelsey, who was killed in the siege 
of Louisburg in 1745, and a brother Moses, who served in the Seven 
Years' War; a sister Sarah, who married Thomas Allison of Barrington, 
ancestor of the late Gen. B. F. Butler, and a sister Mary, who married 
James Morrison of Nottingham, who had two sons that rendered efficient 
service in the Revolution. 

I have two letters from Mrs. Jean Henrie, written from Ireland, in 
1752, to her father, John McCrillis of Nottingham, and her brother of the 
same name, in which she asks if they have had "any accouut of brother 
Hugh Morrison's sone taken away by the Engens" and "what is become of 
little John Workman." 



J. W. T. says : I have a friend, a clergyman, living on 
Cape Cod. He has a little boy who became of school age 
last fall. The first day in school he saw the children salute 
the flag. At noon he asked his father the meaning of the 
ceremony : he wanted to know just what the flag meant, 
what it was for. The minister, wishing to impress upon the 
tittle fellow the significance of the stars and stripes, told 
him it stood for protection, for safety — indeed, all born 
under the flag were protected from harm. 

After school, in the afternoon, the child asked his 
father for five cents to buy a flag. "O," said his father, 
"buy a good one while you are about it; get one for a 
quarter." 

Now it so happened that the boy had a cage of tame 
rats that had been threatened with destruction. The boy 
bought a flag, and hunting up a hammer and some brads 
nailed the emblem of protection over the cage in which 
the rodents lived. The very next day found the rat family 
considerably increased in number. "Now," said the boy's 
father, "we've got too many rats ; I'm going to give them 
all to the cat." 

"No, papa," said the little fellow, "hold on, you can't 
do it; you can't hurt them, they were born under the 
American flag." 




WALTER KITTREDGE 



Centing on nje 0lh Camp <$rounti 



By Walter Kittredge 



The author of this beautiful song may not have written another that 
will outlive his memory, but it was enough that he gave to us and pos- 
terity "Tenting on the Old Camp Ground." The poems that usually find 
their way into the hearts of men are mono-poems. "Home, Sweet Home," 
•'Beautiful Snow," ' ; The Old Oaken Bucket," "Woodman, Spare that 
Tree," and other old-time favorites belong to this class. Remove "The 
Raven" from Poe's offerings and his name would have been quickly for- 
gotten as a poet. In fact, the reputation of many of our most noted 
poets rests upon some single poem. It was enough to have written one of 
these, and among them not one can take higher rank or will live longer 
than "Tenting on the Old Camp Ground." Though it is not generally 
known, Mr. Kittredge, about a year before his decease, wrote an addi- 
tional stanza in order to secure a renewal of the copyright of the song- 
While we do not think this is equal to the rest of the poem, composed in 
the fire of early manhood and under the inspiration of the excitement 
of the times which gave it birth, we do not consider the work would be 
complete here without it. — Editor. 



,E'RE tenting to-night on the old Camp Ground 
Give us a song to cheer 
Our weary hearts, — a song of home, 
And friends we love so dear. 

Chorus. 

Many are the hearts that are weary to-night, 

Wishing for the war to cease; 
Many are the hearts looking for the right 
To see the dawn of peace. 
Tenting to-night, 
Tenting to-night, 
Tenting on the old Camp Ground. 



179 




TENTING ON THE OLD CAMP GROUND 181 0/^ 

We've been tenting to-night on the old Camp Ground, 

Thinking of days gone by, 
Of the Iov'd ones at home that gave us the hand, 

And the tear that said "Good bye!" — Chorus. 

We are tired of war on the old Camp Ground: 

Many are dead and gone 
Of the brave and true who 've left their homes; 

Others have been wounded long. — Chorus. 

We've been fighting : Vday on the old Camp Ground, 

Many are lying near; 
Some are dead, and some are dying, 

Many are in tears. 

Chorus. 

Many are the hearts that are weary to-night, 

Wishing for the war to cease; 
Many are the hearts looking for the right 
To see the dawn of peace. 
Dying to-night, 
Dying to-night, 
Dying on the old Camp Ground. 

[Stanza added forty years later.] 

The war is over on the old Camp Ground, 

After the flight of years; 
The grass is waving o'er the mound 

Where our dear ones dropped their tears. 

Chorus. 

Our flag waves serene 

Over the green, 

After the tramp of years. 



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By William H. Huse 



,. EXCEPTION to the rule that a prophet is with- 
*J%^k out honor in his own country is Prof. J. Warren 
^2^£ Thyng, Supervisor of Drawing in the public 
schools of Manchester. Here is a New Hamp- 
shire boy who grew to manhood amid the charming scenery 
of our beautiful lake country, whose soul was filled with 
appreciation of its loveliness and who has spent much of 
his life in the attempt to get others to appreciate it too 
and, best of all, has not only succeeded but is enjoying the 
honor that belongs to one who has labored long and well in 
a worthy cause and an honorable and delightful calling. 

His ancestors were among the first permanent set- 
tlers in the town of Exeter, in 1670. His paternal grand- 
father moved to Lake Village, now Lakeport, when that 
beautiful suburb of Laconia contained but four houses. 
Here the artist was born and here, where the crystal waters 
of Winnipesaukee move down through Lake Paugus and 
start in the Winnipesaukee river on their way to the Merri- 
mack and the sea, his early years were spent. If environ- 
ment counts for much, there is little wonder that the im- 
pressionable soul of the lad fed with delight upon the beau- 
ties that were everywhere about, and sought to give expres- 
sion to them on paper and canvas. 

The limited bounds of the Granite State were too 
narrow to keep the young genius within their confines, and 

183 



184 A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST 

we find him studying the technique of his art in Boston and 
New York. The instruction and companionship of such 
artists as George L. Brown, F. E. Church, George Innis, 
and William Hart gave his work a catholicity that is always 
noticeable. In 1872 the directorship of the state art 
school in Salem, Mass., was given him. This position he 
held for eleven years, at the same time superintending the 
art work of the public schools of that city. Not a few 
artists owe their success to the conscientious training of 
their early years under the efficient instruction of Professor 
Thyng. In 1883 he went to Akron, Ohio, and besides 
supervising the art work of the schools he founded the 
Akron School of Design. Here he labored for seven 
years. 

All these years that he was working in distant cities he 
did not forget the beauties of his native state, and we find 
him every summer amid the lakes and mountains of New 
Hampshire, living in the wilds, drinking in their beauties 
and taking away in the fall sketches that would tell the 
world of the scenery of his native state. The work begun 
by him has been continued in a commercial way by the 
railroads that annually send out tons of illustrated material 
to attract to their domains tourists from all parts of the 
world. A work on Lake Winnipesaukee, its history, tra- 
ditions and pictures ran through a large edition. In 
periodicals, upon the lecture platform, and above all with 
brush and pencil, he has for many years told the world of 
New Hampshire's beauties. Special work for the Harpers, 
many drawings for other publishers, and drawings and 
paintings that have been eagerly purchased by art connois- 
seurs have occupied his spare time for years. Concerning 
his lithographed drawing, Lake Winnipesaukee from The 
Weirs, Whittier, whose warm friendship the artist enjoyed 
for many years, wrote to him, "Thy beautiful picture is the 
best I have seen of the lake. " 

Mr. Thyng's deep interest in the lakes and hills has 
always been more than that of the artist. History and 



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CHARCOAL SKETCH OF MR. THYNG 

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A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST 185 

legend have always appealed to him. The desirability of 
appropriate names led to his renaming a number of places. 
The commonplace name of Long Bay was changed by him 
to Lake Paugus, after the Indian chief who once lived in 
that vicinity. Round Bay was renamed Lake Opechee, 
after the robins that frequent its shores in the spring and 
were thus named by the aborigines. Lake Winona was 
christened by him and these names have since received offi- 
cial confirmation. 

Concerning his art productions, a critic has said : 

"His paintings and sketches stir in one recollections 
of long summer days spent near blue waters, of afternoons 
dreamed away in a boat amid lilies and beneath the over- 
hanging branches of water oaks and cedars, of moonlit 
evenings, calm and sweet with suggestions of healthful 
weariness and the promise of childlike slumber. 

"His pictures indicate a wide range of achievement, 
and that, too, within the limits of Nature's quieter moods. 
It is ever ja. pleasure and a privilege to look over his 
portfolios and sketches. They are full of suggestions dear 
to every lover of nature. 

"There are pictures which call to memory rambles 
through the flower-dotted grass of June, the air full of fra- 
grance, vibrant with the soft adagio of the winds among 
odorous pines, or the babbling lullaby of mountain brooks; pic- 
tures of shaded streams dim with the twilight of overhang- 
ing trees, where the speckled trout lurk beneath the rocks ; 
pictures of ragged mountain sides, where not so long ago 
bears might have had their home; pictures of the lake at 
all times of the day, some with soft, blurred shadows made 
by the level light of dawn, some with the glare of the noon- 
day in them, and others sweet with the illusory charm of 
twilight. There pictures of farmhouses nestling among 
great maples, of country roadways, of woodland paths, 
dainty bits of mountain and lake scenery, drawn with a 
vital touch and extraordinary facility of expressing with a 
few touches the boundless variety and beauty of nature." 



186 A NEW HAMPSHIRE ARTIST 

After his return from Akron, for a number of years he 
superintended the art department of the Manchester Daily 
Union, when that paper contained illustrations second to 
none in the country. In this work he continued till he was 
elected Supervisor of Drawing in the public schools of 
Manchester. Here he is still laboring incessantly, not only 
to give the children the technique of art, but to inspire them 
with a love for and an appreciation of the beautiful. 

His connection with the public schools of this city 
covers a period of ten consecutive years. The system em- 
ployed is largely of his own construction and arrangement, 
and is deduced from long experience both as artist and 
teacher. He firmly believes in the vital directness of 
modern methods of instruction, and one of our pictures 
shows a class from a school, out of doors, sketching from 
nature. 

Wholly occupied with school duties, personal work from 
nature is the product of summer vacation days; mostly 
camp life in the lake and mountain country. The original 
of the Old Blacksmith Shop stands at the foot of Mt. 
Belknap, and is a relic of many years, well known to resi- 
dents of Gilford. The door stands ever open alike to sun 
and rain; several generations of hillside yeomanry have 
lighted the forge fires ; the old rusty anvil has rung to the 
blows of many long since gone. Sunlight sifts through the 
dusty and cobwebbed window, while without the heat of a 
summer noon makes the interior of the old blacksmith shop 
a welcome refuge as well as a characteristic picture. The 
Peak of Chocorua is from an original water color sketch 
made on the mountain, and gives a correct idea — as no pho- 
tograph can — of the vast truncated pyramid. A view of 
Lake Asquam, from the hill, is reproduced from a pen-and- 
ink drawing that inspired Mr. Walter S. Peaslee's beautiful 
poem. 

Those coming in closest touch with Mr. Thyng in his 
school work appreciate the charm of his manner with the 
children, and the delight with which they follow his instruc- 



OCTOBER VOICES 187 

tions on his regular visits. A life seems to be infused into 
the work that all instructors do not have the power to 
impart. In the high school, as in other grades, his instruc- 
tion in both mechanical and free-hand drawing is of a high 
order. 

Mr. Thyng is high in the ranks of Masonry and is 
widely known and highly esteemed, and by his character 
and devotion to his friends, attracts and keeps the friendship 
and affection that are lasting with all who are favored with 
his companionship. 



October Voices 

By Louise Lewin Matthews 

Fresh winds from over the ocean, 

Come drifting from the lea, 
The birds of summer twilight 

Fly to the south lands free. 
The leaves are casting glories 

Far down the woodland way, 
The west is filled with splendors, 

As pass the hours of day. 

The goldenrod and aster 

Alone bedeck the field. 
The harvest days are closing, 

As fruits from blossoms yield. 
The mystery of the seasons 

Grows vast and wondrous fair : 
How sweet is all the Spring time ! 

How glorious Autumn's air ! 



One of Boston's Largest Clubs 

By Gertrude Jones Bahtlett 




HE history of New Hampshire's Daughters, an 
organization of four hundred New Hampshire born 
women, incorporated under the laws of Massachu- 
setts, should be of interest to the people of the 
Mother State and, although the members are mostly resi- 
dents of Massachusetts, their hearts are warm with the 
love of old home associations. 

The club* was formed in 1894 an ^ incorporated in 1897. 
The charter members, Julia Knowlton Dyer, Lura F. 
Mead, Ida Farr Miller, Nella I. Daggett, Adelaide L. 
Godding, Addie K. Robinson, Martha Dana Shepard, 
Sarah A. Jenness, Susan E. Ranlet, Jennie B. Wadleigh 
and Josephine L. Richards associated themselves "To pro- 
mote loyalty to the Mother State, to cultivate a knowledge 
of her interests and to seek to further them." It was 
admitted in 1896 to the Massachusetts State Federation of 
Women's Clubs, and in 1898 to the New Hampshire State 
Federation. 

The club was most fortunate in securing as its first 
president Miss Kate Sanborn, a widely known authoress, 
lecturer and, above all, a lady, born and reared, and an 
enthusiastic lover of New Hampshire. Miss Sanborn's 
administration brought to the club a prestige which it has 
always retained. 

The succeeding presidents have been women who were 
well known in club life; Mrs. JuliaKnowlton Dyer, whose work 
with the Charity Club of Boston and other organizations needs 
no introdu ction ; M rs . Martha Follet t, whose earnest work with 

188 



new Hampshire's daughters 189 

theclub was much appreciated ; Mrs. Ida Farr Miller, founder 
and ex-regent of Fanuel Hall Chapter, Daughters of the 
American Revolution, and founder and ex-president of the 
Kosmos Club of Wakefield ; Mrs. Eliza Nelson Blair, 
author of "'Liz'beth Wilson," and ex-president of the New 
Hampshire State Federation of Women's Clubs; Mrs. 
Anna Taylor Chase Bush, a vice-president of the Massa- 
chusetts State Federation and ex-president of the Melrose 
Woman's Club. The incoming president, Mrs. Nella I. 
Daggett, former president of the New England Women's 
Press Association, and an ex-director of the Massachusetts 
State Federation, is a most able woman, and the season 
bids fair to be one of unusual pleasure and profit to the 
club. 

Social enjoyment has reigned supreme from the first, 
but with this came a desire to learn more of the history of 
our Granite State and also to aid by combined efforts some 
of her institutions for the unfortunate, which every state 
finds indispensable. 

During the first two years, the program of each meet- 
ing consisted of the reading of papers upon the history of 
the counties, one afternoon being given to each county in 
New Hampshire. The social hour and refreshments were in 
charge of the members who were born in the county which 
was made the subject of the afternoon, and the scheme 
proved a most beneficial one in every way; members became 
better acquainted with those from their own county and the 
club regretted that New Hampshire had no more counties, 
as the last program was completed. 

These women are conscious of a tie stronger than that 
of the ordinary club, being already banded together in a 
sisterhood by birth, which is in part, no doubt, the secret of 
the unanimity and great success of the organization. 

It has been proved by this club that large committees 
not only bring together in closer relationship the members 
in general, but that a large working force can accomplish 
large results. 



190 NEW HAMPSHIRE DAUGHTERS 

The Committee on Sociology has done most admirable 
work, and the money generously donated by the club mem- 
bers has been given to such organizations as the Orphans' 
Home at Franklin and the Home for Feeble-Minded 
Children. 

The Educational Committee conceived what seems a 
most wise plan in aiding the young women of New Hamp- 
shire who are wishing for a higher education, and who have 
not sufficient means or would be held back in their progress 
if obliged to work their way through school. The amounts, 
usually fifty dollars at a time, are loaned to worthy girls, 
and it is expected that the money will be returned when 
convenient, which encourages a feeling of independence 
and self-respect. For a time it was thought best to make 
these loans only to those attending or wishing to attend 
seminaries in New Hampshire, but this idea was reconsid- 
. ered and abandoned. Letters filled with thankfulness and 
hopefulness for the future, read before the club, are very 
gratifying to the members. 

Forestry is a subject which is coming nearer and 
nearer the hearts of New Hampshire people and partic- 
ularly so to New Hampshire's sons and daughters who have 
.gone from the state, and to whom the changes are more 
noticeable than to those living near the scenes of for- 
est destruction. Stereopticon lectures have been given in 
various parts of New Hampshire, and a traveling library, 
pertaining to out-of-door life, is going the rounds of the 
towns and villages, remaining in each place long enough to 
be read by every person. It is hoped in this way to create 
an interest in the beautiful in nature, and one special aim 
of the club is to arouse so great an interest in the proposed 
White Mountain Reservation that this region of marvelous 
beauty and grandeur may become the National Park of the 
East. 

The Committee on Folk-Lore furnishes much informa- 
tion and pleasure to the club, and their programs are antici- 
pated with great interest each year. 



PRESIDENTS OF THE NEW HAMPSHIRE DAUGHTERS 



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Mrs. ANNA T. C. BUSH Mrs. IDA FARR MILLER 

Miss KATE SANBORN Mrs. JULIA K. DYER Mrs. NELLA I. DAGGETT 

Mrs. MARTHA E. FOLLETT Mrs. ELIZA N. BLAIR 



NEW HAMPSHIRE DAUGHTERS . 191 

Among the committees for the immediate needs of the 
club itself is the Committee on Hospitality, consisting of 
twenty-one members, whose work it is to introduce new 
members. They also have charge of the club tea and other 
features which tend to promote a feeling of good fellowship 
at the meetings. 

For a few years the club met in the spacious hall and 
banquet room of Hotel Vendome, where some of our most 
delightful receptions have been held. Among the invited 
guests were the governors of the two states and prominent 
people who showed special friendliness toward the organiz- 
ation. On account of the increase in membership, a 
change was made to Pierce Hall, Copley Square, but in 
1905 this hall was made into offices, which necessitated 
again looking for new quarters. The Tuileries, 217 Com- 
monwealth avenue, was decided upon as pleasing in every 
way, and the Napoleon room, with its adjacent banquet hall, 
has thus far proved a most enjoyable home. 

The meetings are held on the third Saturday of the 
month, from October to May, inclusive, beginning at two 
o'clock in the afternoon, which time is appointed for a half 
hour of business, succeeded by a program lasting an hour 
and a half, which is followed by the social hour. To give 
the readers of this magazine an idea of the programs, the 
calendar for the year 1905-1906 is here given: 

October 21. Official Reports, Readings and Music. 

November 18. Stereopticon Lecture, "Beautiful New 
Hampshire," by Prof. George N. Cross. 

December 16. Musicale: Mozart Ladies' Quartet; 
Miss Ila Niles, contralto; Mr. E. E. Holden, tenor; Mr. 
Ralph Smalley, cellist. 

January 20. Governor's Day. Reception to Mr. and 
Mrs. McLane. 

February 17. Home Day. 

March 17. "Afternoon in Bird Land," with Mr. 
Edward Avis. 

April 21. New Hampshire Folk-Lore. 



192 new Hampshire's daughters 

May 19. Annual Business Meeting. 

The following verses, written and set to music by Mr. 
John J. Loud and presented to the club, aptly express the 
sentiments of the Daughters of the Granite State : 

NEW HAMPSHIRE HOME SONG 

Oh, I love her snow-capped mountains, 

And her old, historic shore, 
And her hillsides where, in mem'ry, 

Sunshine lingers evermore. 
Each fair landscape, every valley, 

like a glimpse of Eden seems, 
When I think of Old New Hampshire, 

Or revisit her in dreams. 

Chorus 

Yes, we love our grand "Old Granite State," 

Her Yeomen brave and strong, 
Her name and fame we celebrate 

In story and in song. 

In the breeze that sweeps our hilltops 

There's a tonic rare and great, 
There's a manhood that is rock-ribbed 

In the grand "Old Granite State." 
Strong the sons and fair the daughters 

Of the men and women true, 
Who with faith serene and sturdy 

Bravely trod life's journey through. 

Let me trace once more the pathway 

From the orchard to the mill ; 
Let me sit beneath the maples, 

At the cool spring drink my fill. 
There my feet in childhood wandered, 

Oft I've dreamed that childhood o'er, 
111 go back to Old New Hampshire 

When the Home Week comes once more. , 




Pigeon Snaring 

By The Nestor of the Farms 



'UNTING, fishing and the pursuit of game in other 
ways, both for pleasure and pastime, were indulged 
in to a considerable extent within the memory of 
many now living, though the period of the forest ranger 
had passed and his shadowy figure stalked the grim wild- 
wood only in memory. There were mink and muskrat, to 
say nothing of the more shy otter and raccoon. Squirrels 
were more plenty than at present, but seemed to be less 
sought after, possibly because there were different creatures 
calling for the attention of the hunter. Birds were more 
common than at present, and several varieties existed then 
that have nearly if not entirely disappeared. 

Even the boys of those days were adepts in the ways 
of the wild. They were not only trained in the use of fire- 
arms and snow-shoes, but they could imitate the cry of 
every bird and beast that abounded in the country. They 
could tell by the sound only the exact expression conveyed 
by each denizen of the forest, whether its cries were an 
alarm of fear or an outbreak of joy. Then one could 
scarcely enter the woods without hearing the rapid whirr of 
the partridge, the chatter of some member of the squirrel 
family, the buzzing of the woodcock, scream of the jay or 
the solemn caw of a sentinel crow. In the spring time the 
lowlands were made to echo and re-echo with the ringing 
notes of the blackbird, and the fields to awaken with the 
melodious notes of the bob-o-link. Those were the days 
before the coming of that merciless raider, the songless 
English sparrow. 

193 



194 OLDIME SKETCHES 

Possibly there is no bird with stronger hints of romance 
than the wild pigeon. Immediately our mind becomes 
associated with the carrier bird, and we picture to ourselves 
long journeys taken by this intelligent and feathered mes- 
senger. Remarkable stories are told of the great distances 
passed by these bearers of tidings from other lands, gener- 
ally in times of war when their service has been found to 
be of great value, especially in Europe. 

The passenger or ''wild" pigeon, as it is commonly 
called (Columba migratoria, as classified by Linnaeus) is 
peculiar to North America and existed here at one time in 
great numbers. The neck and back of this pigeon, includ- 
ing the sides and head, are of a delicate blue with purple 
and a brownish red on the breast, running into a violet 
toward the extremity of the body. The bluish ground of 
the wings show when spread a web of blue black, while the 
middle tail feathers are brown with white under the outer 
fold and the border of a pale blue. The bill is black and 
the feet are yellow. 

Though associating together in flocks throughout the 
year, in the month of May they separated into pairs and 
built their nests. These were usually to be found in the 
trees of a swamp or dense wood, and were constructed of 
twigs and leaves, so loosely arranged as to seem incapable 
of bearing the weight of the parent bird. It was not hol- 
low, like the nests of most birds, and it had no fleece lining, 
but the tiny timbers of the simple structure remained un- 
covered and the sitter was left unprotected from their 
thorny sides. 

At one time these birds were numerous in certain sec- 
tions of New Hampshire. They remained here throughout 
a mild winter, but absented themselves for a brief while 
during a severe period of cold weather. They lived princi- 
pally upon acorns, beechnuts and chestnuts, but they did 
not hesitate to display traits of the forager upon the 
farmers, visiting in their season the grain fields with a bold- 
ness that out-generaled the crow. They lingered long amid 
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WILD PIGEON AND SNARE 



PIGEON SNARING 195 

the stubble, gathering bits of grains for their food where 
none seemed to have been left. They were great berry 
pickers during the season of the blueberry and blackberry. 

Among all the feathered population of meadow and 
woodland, none became more sought after by the hunter 
than the wild pigeon. The manner of its capture was 
practised upon no other bird, which was due to its habits. 
Late in the summer and early in autumn, for a month or 
six weeks, this bird was wont to leave its favorite abiding 
place in the interior, going to the sea-coast, very much as 
the human family does to-day. But there was this differ- 
ence : having means of locomotion excelling even the auto- 
mobile of man, it made a practice of starting from its 
roosting place at the early dawn and flying to the sea shore 
to spend the day, invariably returning over the same route 
to its favorite stopping-place during the hour of twilight. 
Its flight was made very rapidly and, going in large flocks, 
these short migrations were sure to attract the attention of 
its enemy, man. 

The method most commonly pursued in this state was 
snaring by net. A small clearing where the birds were 
wont to visit or pass over was selected and a "bed" pre- 
pared, which was carefully baited, usually with grain. A 
place of concealment for the "pigeoner," called a bough 
house, was constructed at the edge of the growth, where he 
could command a good view of the scene. The big net 
made of stout twine was spread and held in position by a 
slender "sapling standing at a convenient spot. From this 
lever aline was made to run to the "bough house," where the 
hunter held one end in readiness for the auspicious moment, 
when a goodly number of birds had alighted upon the bed, 
to pull the cord. This freed the sapling and as it flew back 
the net was carried over so as to envelop the birds beyond 
escape. Several dozen birds have been captured at a single 
setting of the net. Our artist shows this way of snaring 
the pigeon, as well as a correct picture of one of the 
birds. 



196 OLDTIME SKETCHES 

The hunter who prided himself upon his skill with fire- 
arms preferred to shoot the game. He usually first 
obtained three wild pigeons as decoys, called "workers." 
A thread run through the lower lid of each eye and brought 
over the top of the head drew the lid upward so the sight 
was blinded. This served to make them more easily 
handled. A "boot" made of soft kid string was slipped 
over the leg and a long line attached. This bird was called 
"The Long Flyer." A second, with a shorter string 
attached in a similar manner, was known as "The Short 
Flyer." These were both stationed at one corner of the 
booth or hiding-place of the pigeoner. The third bird, 
called "The Hoverer," which was also booted and blinded, 
was made to sit on a small platform held up by a tall, slim 
pole standing between the booth and another and larger 
upright beyond, the line running from the top of this 
through the spindle of the "stool', to the man in the bough 
house. A pull and release upon the string would cause the 
platform upon which the decoy was located to move up and 
down, giving the effect of a pigeon alighting. 

These preliminaries arranged, the pigeoner took his 
station where he could be on the lookout for the appear- 
ance of the expected flock of feathered troops upon which 
he was to wage his premeditated attack. As wild pigeons 
upon these trips usually flew at the rate of a mile a minute, 
the expectant hunter was obliged to be alert and active. It 
was a time for the tyro to have the "pigeon fever." Simul- 
taneously with the first sight of the oncoming flock, and 
sometimes even before then if the air was still and the ear 
trained for such sounds, the approach of the "army of the 
air" would be heralded by the roar of many wings. 

If the flock was discovered at a long distance, "the long 
flyer" was released and, flying upward to the limit of its line, 
was made to descend gradually, like a bird alighting. If 
time was allowed "the short flyer" was sent up and settled 
in a similar manner. "The hoverer" was made to rise and 
fall in imitation of a bird hovering over some particular spot 



PIGEON SNARING 197 

which had attracted its attention. The oncoming flock, 
attracted by these decoys, the pigeoner resorted to his 
handy firearm and awaited with breathless interest the out- 
come. The swish and whirr of many wings now grew into 
a tumultuous roar, mingled with the sharp prating of the 
birds that were suddenly and with lightning-like swiftness 
swooping downward upon the poles, the sudden reversing 
of the powers of locomotion and the wild clamor of the 
excited birds all tending to unnerve the hunter if this were 
his first experience in "shooting from the pole." If his 
nerves became too unsteady he would fail to kill a single 
pigeon, as many did in their initial shot. If he fired with 
unerring aim and the situation was favorable, he was sure 
to bring down dozens of the birds. This form of taking 
wild pigeons required sharper practice, a quicker judgment 
and more steady nerves than the way of catching by snares, 
but after all the latter was more successful. I have heard 
old hunters say they had captured at a single haul of the 
line over forty dozen of the game, and an average catch 
was fifteen to twenty dozen. Busy times followed for the 
entire family to dress the birds for market, where they 
brought from four and sixpence to six shillings a dozen. 
This made pigeon hunting very profitable. I have heard 
one who used to help his father in the work say that the 
large and beautiful farm upon which he now lives was paid 
for with "pigeon money." 

Some time early in the 70's wild pigeons suddenly and 
mysteriously disappeared from these parts, and as far as I 
know none of them remained. From what I have read and 
been told I am not certain that they existed here in very 
considerable numbers before the nineteenth century. Did 
they come as abruptly and unexpectedly as they disap- 
peared ? Many of the pigeoners who had reaped a harvest 
faom their capture here followed them to the wilds of 
Michigan and other western states, to continue their whole- 
sale slaughter there. I am told that they have now van- 
ished from those sections. 



198 OLDTIME SKETCHES 

A friend says : 

"I remember when a small boy of watching with 
youthful enthusiasm grandfather in his attempts to snare 
the flocks of pigeons that fed for some weeks upon 
the adjoining meadows. 

"Now it so happened that about a dozen had escaped 
his snare, but like the moth around the candle refused to 
be warned by the fate of their companions, and continued 
to hover about the fatal grounds. Grandfather told me I 
might have them if I could catch them, and you believe 
I went about that task with great delight. I immediately 
looked to the safe arrangement of the net and saw that a 
goodly amount of bait was properly distributed for the 
game. Everything seen to that demanded attention, I 
retired to the bough house. Instead of being content to 
remain at home until an early hour, and then repair to the 
scene of conquest, so to speak, I took up my abode in the 
bough house and began my long, sleepless vigil, for I never 
closed my eyes during the night. There was never a more 
wide-awake boy, I can tell you. 

"Just as the dawn was beginning to tinge the eastern 
sky with its rose tints, I heard the unmistakable signal of 
the foremost pigeons. I soon saw the "baiters," as the 
leaders were called, approach the feeding ground. I 
counted fifteen and began to wonder if I should get them 
all or lose half. Schooling my boyish enthusiasm to wait 
for 'the result with as much patience as possible, you may 
imagine but cannot realize my joy when I saw the space 
overhead darkened by a big flock of the birds. These hov- 
ered for a short interval over the net and then, amid such a 
whirring of wings, prating of excited birds and the pent-up 
excitement of a boy, they alighted upon the fatal ground. 
I pulled the line and the net closed over fifteen dozen of as 
sleek birds as ever gladdened apigeoner'sheart. You may 
imagine grandfather's chagrin when he learned of my 
success." 




/jlSerrtmack bp tfce fttber 

By A Staff Contributor 

HE township under consideration affords the stu- 
dent of primitive history a curious and interesting 
stock of tradition, and along the bank of the river 
which gave it name, and in each secluded corner springs 
into view of the mind's eye the wild figure of a race and a 
day that have vanished, the solitude then awakened by the 
resounding eloquence of some rude warrior dream more 
potent in its picturesque power than the hum of modern 
machinery. 

Indian legend tells us that the first pine sprang full- 
fledged from the grave of a noble chieftain in the days 
grown misty with secrets. It may have been this reason, 
it may have been many others, but in some mysterious 
manner the pine wielded a great influence over the sons of 
the wilderness. He may have known that there were 
better hunting grounds where the oak and chestnut gave 
their treasures to the denizens of the forest; better fishing 
where the graceful birch and the tangled alder fringed the 
purling stream, but he forsook these for the great green 
tent of the lofty pine. Possibly his mood was more in har- 
mony with the somber pine sighing softly of the mystery 
of life. Let that be as it may, the Souhegan, "River of 
Pines," found their conical tents scattered along its banks. 
Here the dusky sportsman cast his net, never failing to find 
it filled ; here the hunter pursued his bounding game from 
sun to sun ; here, the war cloud blown over, was smoked 
the pipe of peace, and here, 'neath the stars and the pines, 
the dusky maid wooed her dusky mate. All these, even 
the pines, have passed away, and only tradition and the 
river remain to remind us of that period fringed with fancy 
but barren of fact. 

199 



200 MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 

The first mention of this territory among written 
records was the petition of Passaconnaway to the General 
Court of Massachusetts for a grant of land to include 
a part of this region. This was in 1662, and in the autumn 
of that year the court acceded to this reasonable request, 
and the aged sachem and his associates were granted a strip 
of country a mile and a half wide on both banks of the 
Merrimack at this section of the river. If the bounds 
were indefinite, so were all of the grants of those times, 
and it is certain that the grand old chieftain held a 
portion, at least, of what is now the town of Merrimack. 
While there is not even tradition to show that the last great 
king of his race held eminent domain over this little frag- 
ment of his once far-reaching kingdom, the voice of Time 
is equally silent in denying that he sought the peaceful soli- 
tude of the forests that he loved so well, and that his 
sepulture was not made beneath the softened shade of some 
lordly pine, a fitting monument to him and his people. 

This brief interval of peace was broken by an Indian war- 
fare more deadly and picturesque than the chivalrous crusades 
of Europe, and lasting for more than a hundred years held in 
check for that long period the settlement of New England. 
During this century, red with the wine of conflict, each 
advance cabin of the English became an outpost of peril, a 
lookout in the wilderness. As early as 1672, Capt. Jona- 
than Tyng and a handful of associates felled the first tree 
along what was then looked upon as the "Upper Merri- 
mack," and made the clearing for the little settlement about 
Salmon Brook. From this adventurous beginning grew the 
broad, if thinly peopled, township of Old Dunstable, com- 
prising not only the remnant which keeps alive the name, 
but included entirely the towns of Nashua, Hudson, Hollis, 
and Tyngsborough, with portions of Brookline, Townsend, 
Pepperell, Pelham, Londonderry, Litchfield, Amherst, Mil- 
ford and Merrimack, more than two hundred square miles. 
Captain Tyng and his followers were soon alarmed by the 
uprising of the Indians in southern New England, and during 



MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 201 

the war which succeeded he alone remained as a watchman 
over the settlement in the Merrimack Valley. King Philip 
slain by theblow of a coward and peace restored in 1678, the 
settlement on Salmon Brook again became the scene of activ- 
ity. But the drama of war was quickly changed to northern 
New England and the Merrimack River became the war- 
trail of the contending forces. In the winter of 1 703-1 704 
Capt. William Tyng, a son of the founder of Dunstable, 
made his famous "Snow-shoe expedition" against the 
Indians, passing up the west bank of the river and through 
what is now the territory of the town of Merrimack. The 
incident which has fixed itself more indelibly than any 
other upon the early history of this region was the surprise 
and massacre of a party of white men, in the month of 
September, 1724, at a time when the Indians were particu- 
larly aggressive. Two men, by the names of Nathan Cross 
and Thomas Blanchard, while engaged in the manufacture 
of turpentine, were surprised and captured by the Indians. 
Their friends living at the little settlement on the south 
bank of the Nashua River, looking in vain for them at 
nightfall, became alarmed and a party of ten started in 
quest of them. This band of scouts were themselves way- 
laid by the Naticook Brook, near Thornton's Ferry, and 
only one man, Lieutenant Farwell, escaped with his life. 

In the same year Mr. William Lund of Dunstable was 
taken prisoner and carried to Canada. He was ransomed 
soon after and returning to this vicinity he was attracted by 
its natural features to become one of the first settlers in 
town. He built his house near an oak tree which had wit- 
nessed the death of one of the ten scouts mentioned. 
This noted tree was standing a few years since, a venerable 
landmark of pioneer days. Mr. Lund was the ancestor of 
all the Lunds in town. It is related that his estimable wife 
obtained the money to ransom him from his enemies in 
Canada by converting her property into a sum amounting 
to five hundred livres, which she forwarded for his redemp- 
tion. Afterwards she used to claim with good reason that 



202 MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 

"she owned him, as she had bought him." 

Before Mr. Lund had made his clearing John Crom- 
well, a noted man in his day, built a trading house about a 
mile below Thornton's Ferry, in 1665, and the place became 
known as "Cromwell's Falls." He carried on a profitable 
business for a time, but the Indians, with whom he fre- 
quently trafficked, claimed he was not honest. As a result 
he was driven or frightened away and his house burned 
about four years after it was erected. 

Mr. Stephen Allen, in an excellent sketch of the town, 
which is about all that has been printed concerning Merri- 
mack, except the little in the general histories, says that 
Jonas Barrett was the first man to make a permanent home 
in town, locating about one and a half miles west of the 
present hamlet of Thornton's. This place has since become 
known as the Ezra Blodgett farm, and is now owned by 
Mrs. Mortimer Cummings. 

Others soon came, among them families by the name 
of Usher, Blanchard, Underwood, Powers, Hassell, Lund, 
Spaulding, Chamberlain, Taylor, Stearns, McClure, Bowers, 
Davidson, Cummings and Howard. William Howard has 
the credit of planting the first orchard in this vicinity, and 
he erected the first cider mill. His descendants have 
become noted in this locality and in Boston. 

John Usher, the head of the first family on the list, 
was a man of importance, being a justice of the peace, 
as witnessed by several public papers now in existence. 
He cleared the original farm where Samuel Barron lived 
fifty years ago, and which is now owned by Harrison Green 
and John Foster. 

Benjamin Hassell was a son of Joseph Hassell, Jr., of 
Old Dunstable, and a grandson of Joseph, Sr., who settled 
in Cambridge in 1647. A daughter born to his wife was 
said to be the first white child born in Merrimack. 

The Underwoods lived on the fertile meadows about 
Thornton's Ferry. Phineas, the son of Aquila, the pioneer, 
kent the first public house in this vicinity. It stood on the 



MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 203 

flat a little east of the Widow Crooker place, now the home- 
stead of Mrs. Herbert Porter. 

Three by the name of Blanchard, all sons of Col. 
Joseph Blanchard of Dunstable, settled here: Joseph, Jr., 
on the farm of the late Levi Wilkins, the place being now 
owned by James Fosdick, who married Miss Lucy Wilkins, 
a descendant of the former; Jonathan Blanchard on the 
place later owned by Mr. Daniel T. Ingalls, and now by 
Mr. George E. W^ebster; while the third son, Augustus, 
settled the homestead where the Rev. Jacob Burnap lived, 
and which is now owned by Charles Pillsbury. Like all of 
the Blanchards, these brothers were men of stability and 
prominence in affairs. 

Matthew Thornton was a yet more noted man in the 
early history of Merrimack, a name that has been honored 
by others whose memories are associated with the history 
of this town. Matthew was born in the north of Ireland 
in 1714, but his parents came to this country when he was 
about three years old. He obtained a good education and 
fitted himself for the practice of medicine, which profes- 
sion he followed for several years in Londonderry, from 
whence he removed to Merrimack. He was a delegate from 
New Hampshire to the Continental Congress in 1776, and 
was one of the immortal signers of the Declaration of Amer- 
ican Independence. He died June 24, 1803, aged eighty- 
nine years, and the inscription on his monument says "The 
honest man." Although he died in Newburyport while on 
a visit, his remains were brought back to Merrimack, and 
they repose in the little burial ground at Thornton's Ferry, 
with only a modest tombstone to mark the resting place of 
one of the Granite State's most noted men. August 28, 
1885, an act of the legislature authorized the erection of a 
suitable monument to his memory, upon a site selected and 
donated by the town. Upon September 29, 1892, this mon- 
ument was dedicated with appropriate ceremonies, the Hon. 
William T. Parker being president and Hon. Charles H. 
Burns the orator of the day. 



204 MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 

It can be truthfullly said that all of the pioneers who 
felled the trees and cleared the wilderness of Merrimack 
were honest, patriotic and intelligent citizens, who came 
with the firm purpose of performing their good work to the 
utmost of their ability. 

Immediately we see them planning to form a church 
organization, and without delay measures were taken to 
build a meeting house. This was erected in what is now 
the town of Litchfield, which was then included in the terri- 
tory of Merrimack. It was a frame house, begun in 1736 but 
not completed for several years. The first minister was the 
Rev. Joshua Tufts, a young graduate from Harvard, who 
received the salary of one hundred and fifty pounds, old 
tenor, which was equal to eighteen pounds, lawful money, 
or sixty dollars as we reckon to-day. There were then 
twenty-six voters on the east side of the river and one less 
on the west side in Merrimack. 

We must pass over those trying incidents connected 
with the progress of church affairs in a single paragraph. 
It was not convenient to have a township lying on both 
sides of the river, and when the line was established 
between Massachusetts and New Hampshire the inhabi- 
tants on the west side of the Merrimack began active meas- 
ures to fix a boundary more to their liking. The present 
limits of the town were fixed in June, 1750. At the first 
town meeting under the new charter it was voted to choose 
a committee to find the exact center of the town and to 
proceed to the building of a meeting house. The survey- 
ors reported that the center of the town was at "a marked 
tree, on a knoll, about thirty rods southerly from Turkey 
Hill bridge." 

Delays, vexatious and trying as was generally the case, 
followed and the new house of worship was not built until 
1756, when the population of the town was less than three 
hundred. Wednesday, October 14, 1772, the first minister 
was settled in town, the Rev. Jacob Burnap, and his ordi- 
nation took place amid impressive ceremonies, attended by 



MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 205 

the representatives of thirteen churches. The meeting 
house was not finished then, but loose floors were laid and 
stairs built to reach the galleries. Dr. Burnap was pastor 
almost fifty years — half a century of such usefulness as 
does not come to the lot of many. He was twice married, 
and had a family of thirteen children. 

Among those who were efficient in this early church 
society was Deacon Jonathan Cummings, who lived on the 
farm once occupied by William McKean and now owned 
by John Green of Nashua. Deacon William Patten was 
another interested in this church movement. He settled 
near where the school-house in District No. 6 formerly 
stood. Samuel Spalding, the ancestor of the Spaldings in 
this vicinity, was also active in this work. 

This old meeting house stood for many years as an 
interesting monument of bygone days. After a time, a 
more central location being desired to accommodate the 
increasing population along the river, it was used for a town 
house until the new town house was built in 1872, when it 
was abandoned for that purpose and left to fall into decay. 
Finally the town voted to repair the ancient structure, but 
before this action could take effect it was burned on the 
morning of July 4, 1896, and thus one of the most interest- 
ing landmarks in this vicinity was lost. 

A second Congregational church, known as the Union 
Evangelical church, Rev. Samuel H. Tollman, pastor, was 
organized in 1829, and the meeting house built at what was 
called Centreville or South Merrimack. 

Merrimack seems to have kept even with her sister 
towns in the matter of the development of political and 
business interests. Education was given an advance in 
1810, when a committee consisting of Rev. Jacob Burnap, 
James Wilkins and Simeon Kinney was appointed to 
inspect the schools. In 1826 the present district system 
was begun and prudential committees elected by the differ- 
ent districts, with a town superintendent to look after the 
examination of the teachers. 



206 MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 

An innovation that created considerable opposition at 
the time was the placing of stoves in the meeting house by 
individuals, so that it would be more comfortable upon a 
biting winter's day when the members were in duty bound 
to listen to one of the old-time sermons, when the time 
consumed in preaching far outweighed the short sermons of 
to-day. The credit of the introduction of this method of 
warming the houses belongs mainly to the efforts of Dr. 
Abel Goodrich, one of the most influential and respected 
citizens of the town then, and to Mr. Daniel T. Ingalls, 
another respected member of society. 

A poor-farm was bought in 1835 and the poor, who had 
previously been taken care of by the "lowest bidder," were 
placed there under charge of an agent appointed by the 
town. This system ended in 1868, when the selectmen 
were given the care of those who had been unfortunate. 

A centennial celebration was held on April 3, 1846, 
one hundred years from that important day in its history 
when Merrimack was incorporated as a township. Robert 
McGaw was the president of the day; Nathan Parker 
and Samuel McConihe, vice-presidents ; Joseph B. Holt 
and Capt. Ira Spalding, marshals. The historical address 
of the day was delivered by the Rev. Stephen Allen, pastor 
of the First church. It was an able discourse and contained 
so much of the early history of the town up to that date 
that it was wisely reprinted a few years since. 

A social library was established in 1798 and another in 
1 85-, this last being finally turned over to the McGaw 
Institute, of which we shall soon speak. Finally, in March, 
1892, largely through the efforts of Dr. Warren Pillsbury, 
the present public library was established and opened the 
following January with Dr. Pillsbury as librarian. He was 
succeeded in a short time by Dr. George H. Davis, who 
was followed in October of the same year by the present 
incumbent, Miss Emma A. Cross, a native of Manchester. 
Through her efficient efforts the library has met with 
remarkable success, considering the sphere of its action. 



MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 



207 




BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF REED'S FERRY 




HOME OF WALTER KITTREDGE 



208 



MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 



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MERRIMACK BY" THE RIVER 217 

*• 

She has given up rooms in her house for the accommdation 
of its patrons. It has now over three thousand volumes and 
there is pressing need of a suitable building in which to 
carry on the good work. May some liberally inclined per- 
son soon answer this call. The present trustees are Dr. 
Guy H. Greeley, Mrs. Josiah Henderson and Rev. Samuel 
Rose, all of whom deserve praise for their interest in the 
matter. 

The first census Was' taken in 1767, when there were 
three hundred persons, young and old, living in the town, 
three of whom were slaves. 

Merrimack proved loyal' to her duty upon the breaking 
out of the War of Independence, though her leader at the 
time, Col. Edward Goldstone Lutwyche, an English gentle- 
man, deserted the town and joined the British forces under 
Gage at . Boston. Without waiting for authority to go 
ahead, the citizens of the town immediately met and 
appointed a Committee of Safety, and fifteen men enlisted 
at once — Minute Men in reality. Throughout the struggle 
Merrimack was faithful to her purpose. It is claimed that 
over forty men served from this town in the American 
army, and it is certain as many as thirty-eight performed 
actual service. The following is the list as compiled by one 
of its historians : 

David Allds (Lieutenant), Isaac G. Allds, Cesar 
Barnes, William Barron (Captain), Jonathan Barron, Augus- 
tus Blanchard (Captain), John Combs, William Cook, John 
Cowdree, William Cowen (deserted), Abel Davis, Thomas 
Davis, James Dickey, Nathaniel Dickey, John Fields, John 
Gait, Nathaniel Gearfield, James Gilmore (Ensign), Mat- 
thew Goodwin, Thomas Hammonds, John Hazleton (Sec- 
ond Lieutenant), Samuel Henry, Ebenezer Hills, William 
King, James Lickey, Timothy Martin, Thomas McClure 
(Sergeant), James Orr, Benjamin Roby, Timothy Taylor, 
James Taylor, Hugh Thornton, David Truel, Benjamin 
Vickere, Samuel Whidden, John Wier. 

When the Civil War opened Merrimack had one hun- 



218 MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 

dred and fifteen men able for military duty. Of this num- 
ber eighty-three volunteered for service and twenty-five 
furnished substitutes ; nine substitutes were bought by the 
town and seven citizens re-enlisted, so that the town stands 
credited with seven more men than she had liable to a call 
to arms. This is certainly a record no town need be 
ashamed of. The highest bounty paid was $550, and that 
by a vote of the town. Great credit belongs to William T. 
Parker, who was military agent through the entire war, 
serving with ceasless energy, and always without compen- 
sation. In 1892 an appropriate monument was erected to 
the memory of the soldiers of the Civil War. The follow- 
ing are the names of the volunteers from Merrimack : 

D. Asquith, David Asquith, David Atwood, Nathaniel 
C. Barker, John Barnes, Gilman Blood, George F. Bowers, 
John H. Bowers, Charles L. Brigham, Henry F. Butter- 
field, Joseph Cady, William H. Campbell, Wallace Clark, 
Abel M. Colby, Henry Collins, Horace B. Corning (killed), 
George W. Darrah (re-enlisted), Matthew Dickey, Hugh 
Dolan, Peter H. B. Dolan, Edward A. Downs (killed), 
R. H. Duffy, George W. Fisher, Francis F. Flint, George 
W. Flint, Courtland Follansbee (died in Libby Prison), 
Charles G. Foot, Edward P. French, A. S. Gardner, James 
W. Gardner, Frank T. Gardner, Edwin Goodwin, Charles 
O. Gould, Horace S. Gould, W T arren Green, Charles N. 
Green (re-enlisted and commissioned Second Lieutenant), 
James Hale, Levi W. Hall, Richard Hensen (deserted), 
David Henderson, Jr., James Henderson, William Hender- 
son, Silas P. Hubbard, B. Ivison, John H. Jackman, Spence 
F. Jewett, Thomas Law, Patrick Lee, Charles H. Longa, 
George B. Longa (died in the army), John H. Longa, 
James W. Longa, Tyler T. Longa, H. Washington Longa 
(re-enlisted), Samuel Marsh, Ira Mears, Aaron Mears, Orvil 
A. McClure, Samuel E. McClure, James M. McConihe 
(re-enlisted), Charles H. McGilveray, George F. McGilveray, 
Edward McKean (re-enlisted), Rufus Merriam (killed), 
Charles W. Morgan, James L. Nash, John P. Y. Nichols 



MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 219 

(died in camp at Concord), Grosvenor Nichols, Charles W. 
Parker, Convin J. Parker, Nathan A. Parker, Thomas A. 
Parker, Henry C. Patrick (killed), John G. Reed, James A. 
Reed, George PL Robbins, John L. Robbins, George W. 
Savage, Orison Sanderson, Alexander Shackey (belonged 
in Hudson), Matthew P. Tennent, George Wiley, Charles 
O. Wilkinson. 

The old meeting house on Turkey Hill was used for a 
town house until the new town house was dedicated Janu- 
ary i, 1873, after which the venerable structure which had 
served its purpose so well and so long was left to the fate 
recorded. 

Like all pine land, the soil is not as productive as that 
of many other towns, but Merrimack possesses many neat 
and inviting homesteads notwithstanding this fact. Sev- 
eral manufactories have added materially to the prosperity 
of the town, the majority of these finding their power in 
the Souhegan. The water privilege of this stream was 
originally utilized by Capt. John Chamberlain, who built 
the first grist and saw-mills in town. 

Isaac Riddle built mills for the manufacture of cotton 
and woollen goods, until he was burned out in 1818, when 
he rebuiltj to be again a sufferer from fire in 1829. 

His successor was David Henderson, who carried on 
quite an extensive business in the manufacture of carpets, 
cotton and woollen goods, etc. These mills stood on the 
north side of the iron bridge, and were doomed by fire, a 
boy tipping over a lantern which started a fire that con- 
sumed the buildings to the water's edge. A grist-mill fol- 
lowed upon this site, which was soon taken away to allow 
of a building for the manufacture of the first furniture 
made in town and operated by Holton and Henderson. 
Later only tables were made here by Thomas Parker. 
Finally this business was succeeded by a tannery, which 
with increased business is now owned by A. J. Foster. 

Close by is the site of the saw-mill where Chamberlain 
cut lumber and has the credit of killing the last Indian ever 



220 MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 

seen in this vicinity. This wily red man evidently came 
here with vengeance in his heart for the scalp-lock of the 
bold miller. Chamberlain was apprized of his danger by a 
neighbor, and thus while he kept about his work he watched 
for his enemy. Believing the latter would make his appear- 
ance about nightfall, he placed his hat and coat upon the 
"nigger head," and leaving the saw in motion he crept out 
to reconnoitre. Lying behind a pile of boards he soon dis- 
covered the red man creeping up the bank, gun in hand, 
with his eye trained on the dummy Chamberlain had left as 
a decoy. Upon getting in range of his target the Indian 
fired, and a moment later he was shot down by Chamber- 
lain. In passing it may do no harm to remind the reader 
that Chamberlain stories are frequently heard along the 
Merrimack, and that it may be well to accept them all with 
a grain of seasoning. 

Near where this intrepid pioneer sawed lumber, ground 
grain and conquered red men stands the manufactory of 
David R. Jones, which has passed through many hands, 
and which is now doing a profitable business in making 
tables. 

Numerous and various other enterprises in the way of 
small manufactories have now and then been inaugurated 
and carried on for more or less time with varied success. 
There was a saw-mill at Atherton Falls, the most pictur- 
esque and attractive to be found on this stream. The water 
takes a headlong plunge here of more than ten feet. A 
remarkable stone profile has been discovered near by, rival- 
ling in some respects the features of the Old Man of the 
Mountain. 

Among the industries of Merrimack the Fessenden 
and Lowell cooperage at Reed's Ferry deserves special 
mention. This corporation was formed originally in 1873, 
by co-partnership of Benjamin F. Fessenden, Anson D. 
Fessenden and Levi F. Lowell, all of Townsend, Mass. 
From a small beginning this business developed into one of 
largest industries of the town, and continued under the 



MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 221 

above partnership until the death of Benjamin Fessenden 
in 1882, when his part of the partnership was succeeded 
by his son Anson D. Fessenden. In 1893 the partnership 
was changed to a stock company, retaining the same name, 
Fessenden & Lowell, as before. 

At the time of incorporation the local store belonging 
to Mr. Haseltine was taken into the corporation, and has 
since been running as a cash grocery. This concern manu- 
factures lumber, kits, pails, kegs, half-barrels and barrels, 
nearly all of which are made from native pine which is 
bought in the vicinity of their mills. This business has 
now developed into one of the largest industries of its kind 
in the state. At the present time the business is managed 
by Mr. Levi F. Lowell, who is president and general man- 
ager; George P. Butterfieid, who is general manager of the 
package department, and John E. Haseltine, who is man- 
ager for the store and the mill. Alfred N. Fessenden, son 
of Anson D. Fessenden of Townsend, is the present 
treasurer. 

Mr. Charles S. Nesmith, whose beautiful residence at 
Reed's Ferry is shown among our views of the town, 
started in February, 1900, his excelsior mills at Merrimack, 
which he continues to keep in operation with all the orders 
he can fill. Dependent at first upon water power, he has 
since added steam, so that he is able to work the year 
round. Poplar wood is used, and fifteen hundred tons of 
excelsior are made annually. 

Mr.' Nesmith comes of good old Scotch-Irish stock, his 
paternal ancestor, Robert Nesmith, being among the first 
settlers in Londonderry. He is a native of Merrimack, 
his parents being Samuel and Elizabeth (McKean) Nesmith. 
He married Miss Ellen E. Worthly, daughter of Thomas 
G. and Rebekah (Moore) Worthly of Bedford. 

There have been other industries in the town that 
deserve special mention. At one time brick manufacturing 
was carried on quite extensively in the town, Mr. Ward Par- 
ker being a pioneer in this work. He was a descendant of 



222 MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 

Dea. Thomas Parker, who came to this country from Eng- 
land in 1637. Born in Windham Mr. Parker settled in Bed- 
ford in 1839, where he manufactured brick until 1850, when 
he removed to Merrimack, buying the farm where he lived the 
rest of his life. That being before the days of railroad 
transportation, the freighting was done by boats up and 
down the Merrimack River. He had the reputation of 
being the fastest brick molder of his time. He held many 
offices of trust in town, was a member of the constitutional 
convention in 1876, and representative to the state legis- 
lature in 1877. He was also deeply interested in agricul- 
tural matters, and took many prizes for his fine exhibits of 
stock at the fairs. He lived to be eighty-four years old, 
leaving one son, Everett E., who is a prosperous lumber 
dealer. 

Merrimack numbers among her substantial citizens 
Mr. George Franklin Spalding, who lives upon "Appledoorn 
Farm," which consists of several hundred acres of timber 
and tillage land, situated five miles from Nashua. The 
Spaldings were with the first to settle in Merrimack, and their 
ancestry can be traced back for eight generations. George 
F., the subject of this sketch, was born February 12, 1833, 
and married, in 1858, Miss Eunice Augusta, daughter of 
Nathan Parker, Esq., of Merrimack. Mrs. Spalding, who 
was a most estimable woman, died in 1903, leaving, besides 
her husband, a son, Clarence G., who resides in Nashua, 
and a daughter, Claribel Frances, who, with her husband, 
Rev. Charles S. Haynes, lives at home with her father since 
the death of her mother. 

Merrimack has had one or two taverns of historic inter- 
est. In the days of stage driving and long-distance team- 
ing Nevin's Hotel and, later, McConihe's Tavern were 
noted in their day. President Jackson, so the story runs, 
stopped at the old Merrimack House long enough to get 
dinner and make a speech, during his visit to New Hamp- 
shire. The Merrimack Hotel of to-day is managed by Mr. 
Horace Longa, a descendant of one of the Hessian families 



MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 223 

who came into town after the Revolution. 

Aside from its agricultural and industrial progress, 
Merrimack has been fortunate in being the home of such 
an educational institution as the McGaw Normal Institute, 
located upon the sightly grounds at Reed's Ferry, overlook- 
ing the river. The founder of this system of school work 
was Prof. William Russell, who secured in this town sup- 
porters of his then speculative idea of having a school for 
the training of teachers. A charter was obtained in 1849, 
and the following August the stockholders organized with 
Mr. Robert McGaw as chairman and Matthew P. Nichols as 
secretary and treasurer. The number of pupils the first term 
was sixty-five, and certainly the projector of this school 
had reason to be hopeful for the result. Orderly deport- 
ment was strictly followed and the school continued to 
flourish, having an average attendance of a little more than 
fifty. Professor Russell was succeeded in 1853 by Mr. 
Henry Brickett, who resigned after four years. Messrs. Levi 
Wallace and Samuel Morrison followed him as teachers, after 
which Messrs. Hartshorn and Brown held possession for a 
year or more, calling it the Hillside School. In 1865, 
inspired by the war, a radical change was made, and it 
became known as the Granite State Military and Collegiate 
Institute, and for a while it was successfully carried on by 
the Rev. S. W. Howell, but this interest lessened until 
only one pupil remained, and at the end of ten years the 
school was abandoned and the building taken for tenement 
purposes. 

At this dark hour of the school, its earliest and firmest 
friend, Mr. Robert McGaw, passed away, but in his will he 
provided an endowment of ten thousand dollars, with the 
provision that the school should be restored to its original 
character and be known as the McGaw Normal Institute. 
Thus, in 1872, the institution received new life, the build- 
ings were repaired, and Mr. Bartlett H. Weston installed as 
principal. He retained his position for seven years, to be 
succeeded by Prof. Elliott Whipple. 



224 MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 

In 1900 Prof. David F. Carpenter became principal. 
A native of Salem, Mass., he graduated from the Salem 
Academy at the age of thirteen, and finished a course in 
the Massachusetts Agricultural College in 18S6, when he 
was eighteen. During the years of Professor Carpenter's 
government,' McGaw Institute flourished as well as could be 
expected under the conditions overruling it. The care and 
responsibility of maintaining such a school had fallen 
largely upon the son-in-law of Mr. McGaw, Hon. Francis 
A. Gordon, who was the leading trustee of the institute 
and who had a deep interest in educational matters. When 
the school became too great a burden for him, he appealed 
to the town for assistance. This was given willingly, and it 
was voted to make the needed repairs upon the building, 
put in new furniture and equipments demanded by the state, 
and otherwise forward the good work of a first-class school. 
Five trustees were elected, the new board consisting of 
Carmi M. Parker, president ; Francis A. Gordon, vice-pres- 
ident; David R. Jones, John E. Haseltine and William 
Patterson. Professor Carpenter, in the meantime, had 
secured a lucrative position as superintendent of schools for 
Hanover (town schools), Orford, Piermont and Warren, 
where he is now located. Prof. Leverett V. Symonds, a 
graduate of Williams and a post-graduate of Harvard, 
accepted the invitation to become principal in 1906, and, 
with a new laboratory and apparatus, under its new man- 
agement and financial assurance, McGaw Normal Institute 
again enters upon prosperous influences, with the promise 
of many years of usefulness. 

The good name of McGaw Institute has been honored 
by the careers of students who have become noted in dif- 
ferent branches of the world's progress. Some of these 
may be mentioned, among whom we find Mark Bailey, pro- 
fessor of elocution in Yale College; Hon. Daniel Barnard, 
lawyer and statesman, of Franklin, N. H.; Joseph Cush- 
man, one of the principals of this school in later years; 
Levi Wallace, also a principal here and afterwards a prom- 



MERRIMACK BY THE RIVER 225 

inent lawyer of Groton, Mass.; John Swett, for many years 
superintendent of public instruction in California; Mrs. 
Harriet Newell Eaton, a poetess and prose writer of abil- 
ity ; Walter Kittredge, the popular singer, author of "Tent- 
ing on the Old Camp-Ground," "No Night There," "The 
Golden Streets," over a hundred thousand copies of the 
first alone having been sold. 

No sketch of Merrimack would be complete without at 
least a brief mention of two of the town's "literary folk" : 
Walter Kittredge, the widely known author of "Tenting on 
the Old Camp-Ground," and Mrs. Mattie F. Jones, who 
under the pen name of Nettie Vernon wrote to a consider- 
able extent for the school readers of her generation, and 
many articles for the leading magazines and literary papers. 
She also taught school several years. She married Mr. 
James T. Jones in 1864, going with him soon after to Cali- 
fornia, where they taught school for several years. Return- 
ing East in 1875, they made their home in Merrimack, he 
being station and express agent for eighteen years, giving 
up the position at last on account of poor health. He is 
now postmaster and manager of the telephone exchange at 
this village. Mrs. Jones passed away, after an illness of 
more than two years, February 5, 1906, leaving a wide cir- 
cle of friends to miss her genial presence. Besides her 
husband she is survived by two sons and a daughter. 

The story of Walter Kittredge and how he wrote his 
famous song is reserved for another article. 

Merrimack has one settled minister, the Rev. Samuel 
Rose, who has been over the Congregational church for 
eight years. Mr. Rose is a native of Trowbridge, Eng., but 
came to this country with his parents when a small boy. 
He was educated at Kimball Union Academy and Dart- 
mouth College. He is a trustee of the public library and 
is interested in the McGaw Institute. He married Grace 
Moore Chamberlain of Sharon, Vt., whose parents were 
natives of Merrimack. This couple have three children. 

Space permitting, the story of Merrimack might be 



TELL IT NOW 226 

continued with interest, for the good old town has filled an 
honorable niche in the history of the Granite State. Her 
men and women have always proved willing and equal to do 
and dare in the work that has come to their lot. It has 
been so in the past, and we believe it will co ntinue so in 
the years to come. A little time erstwhile and only the 
sleepy old wilderness held eminent domain here, interrupted 
only by the shadowy passage of the red man, flitting hither 
and thither like birds upon wing, building no towns that 
were substantial, dreaming no dreams that were to outlive 
them. But in the march of civilization, where improve- 
ment rules and human progress marks the way, Merrimack 
will still remain true to her patriotic ancestry. 

We would like to speak more fully of the personal 
side of Merrimack, but have not the liberty to do so. It 
seems a pity no one had risen to write a history of the 
town, while there were yet among her people those who 
could speak from knowledge of the many details of life 
that now cannot be recalled. 



Cell 3lt J^obJ 

By E. H. Shannon 

Have you any cheery greeting ? 

Tell it out to-day ! 
While you wait the friend and 

May have gone away. 

Let the one who sighs for comfort 

Feel a hand grasp true 
It will cheer the way, and surely 

Can't impoverish you. 

We are all the time regretting 

When it is too late, 
And some heavy heart has broken 

While we hesitate. 



A Plain Tale of Plain People, Some of Whom You May Have 
Known, All of Whom Lived a Third of a Century Ago 

By George Waldo Browne 

[Copyright, I9 o6, by the Author] 

What shadows we are and what shadows we pursue ! — Burke. 



CHAPTER V 

WHEN GREEK MEETS GREEK 
"He wus th' most innercent liar thet ever lived." 

^#*|OOKS like the deacon's brown mare Bet ahead," 
Wfei affirmed one of the first to get a fair view of the 
fn%*&- approaching teams. 

"So 'tis, Ike ; an' thet's Abe Goodwill holdin' onto 
th* reins. Abe 's a slick un with hosses, ef he is th' 
deacon's boy. Ain't the ol' mare hummin' ?" replied a 
companion. 

"Who's that behind Abe?" asked a third. "Don't know 
thet hoss nor man." 

"Nor me," declared a fourth. "Whoever it be he ain't 
quite a match for th' ol' mare. But, by creepin' Moses ! 
wouldn't th' deacon hum an' spit ef he should see her 
racin' like that?" 

"He'll groan more 'n that afore he grinds down Abe," 
added yet another. 

227 



228 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

At this juncture the couple in question, seeing the 
crowd fairly obstructing the way in their eagerness to see, 
brought their panting and foaming horses to a standstill. 

Reuben Rover and his friend were about to follow the 
crowd, when the former was brought to a realization of his 
situation by the piping voice of the auctioneer's pompous 
little clerk, in starched shirt, cuffs and gloves, calling after 
him : 

"Look a-heah, my deah mistah, let me wemind you 
that youah little bill wemains unpaid. Please step forward 
and pay." 

"Ebenezer Reed's son, John !" whispered Sam. 

But Reuben Rover merely gave the dapper clerk a 
passing glance as he understood the unpleasant situation he 
was in. The man who had boldly bid four thousand dollars 
on the farm thrust his hands into his empty pockets, and 
who about to turn away with affected indifference, when 
the town pauper, who could certainly go him "one better," 
cried, out : 

"If the chap ain't got the money, here 'tis, an' the 
trunk is mine," and producing his penny old Hungerford 
reached for the trunk. But the spruce-looking clerk shrank 
back as if fearing to come in contact with the poor man, 
and Everybody's Sam, without exactly understanding the 
situation, thrust a half dime into Rover's hand, saying: 

"Ye can pay it back when ye git ready, mister." 
• Murmuring his thanks, Reuben tossed the small piece 
of money to the clerk and, taking the trunk under his arm, 
started toward the crowd. Both of the drivers of the 
horses had alighted from their vehicles, and vere convers- 
ing with the people, the spectators making sundry remarks 
about the over-driven animals. 

"Reckon yer found yer match, stranger, in th' leetle 
mare," remarked a tall, round-shouldered man, snapping a 
fly from the creature's back with a small switch. 

"She is pretty light on the hoof for one of her age. 
Of course I had no wish to go by a boy, though I must say 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 229 

he kept her up as well as half of the men. It was a fine 
opportunity to let out my hoss a little. Hosses, like men, 
get rusty by moving too slow. Isn't that so old man?" 
directing his last remark by chance toward the industrious 
whittler of the pine stick, who had moved his seat of busi- 
ness so as to be within the pale of the crowd. He 
chuckled, as he placed one shaving directly over another, 
but did not deign to notice the horseman. 

"Some purty good p'ints about your hoss, cap'en," 
acknowledged Life Story, who was fain to consider himself 
something of a jockey, looking in the mouth of the 
stranger's horse, running his hand along its back, and then 
lifting the tail, continued : "Well buttoned up in the breech- 
ing. I've alwus noticed that to be one of th' best signs of 
a real tough hoss. I've a little colt at home that th' folks 
round here don't take much notice of, 'cos it belongs to a 
poor men I s'pose. But I've noticed not many like to pick 
him out on th' road. Only day before yesterday, as I was 
comin' down Broadway, a spruce young chap come along 
with a spankin' gray hoss. Seeing I was — " 

Life's story was checked at the very outset by Squire 
Newbegin asking of the new-comer : 

"Come from the east, stranger?" 

"Not exactly as the crow flies, but rather easterly," 
going to the side of the brown mare driven by the boy, 
and, pulling apart her lips, looking intently at her teeth for 
several moments. "Never '11 be any younger," he declared 
at last. 

"That's where th' odds are in favor of a colt," said 
Life. "As I was saying, this stranger seeing, I s'pose, 
that I was in a rattle-trap of a wagon concluded it would be 
an easy matter to go by, he pulled on th' off rein and, 
clucein' to his hoss, got past before Black Joe or I had 
woke up enough to see what was on hand. I began to 
think—" 

"Knee a little sprung," declared the stranger, still 
examining his rival's horse by running his hand down 



230 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

one fore leg and then the other. "Fine neck, though it 
shows weakness. For sale, bub ?" 

"Not that I knows on, mister," replied the youth, who 
was a shrewd appearing country boy. "Bet is a -pretty 
good hoss round on the farm. Reckon I T low dad 'd be 
pestered to get her equal for less 'n fifty dollars." 

"You seem like a youngster of good understanding. 
But she ain't quite big enough for business. Now I've got 
such a hoss as your father 'd like. I don't mind giving 
him a good trade, seeing I would like a good driving hoss 
for my family. Mare's all safe for women folks I suppose?" 

"Little skittish, mister," replied Abe with a grin 
"But she is as true as an ox to pull." 

"Looks so she was about what I have been looking for. 
Would do well on short drives. Of course her years are 
against her going long journeys, or for being put to her 
best even on short spurts. Age will tell against them. 
Now my hoss has come over sixty miles to-day. Don't 
show it. Hardly a hair started you see." 

No reply being made to this, Life improved the silence 
to resume his narrative : 

"I begun to think it was time for me to rustle up that 
colt a bit if I didn't want to take the dust all the way down 
Broadway. But king's sake, I didn't have to shake 'em 
reins over Black Joe a second time — " 

"This ain't Jim Johnson from Peaville, is it?" asked 
Jock Jenness, unable to remain silent any longer, and 
speaking in his accustomed loud voice. He had been im- 
proving his time so far in carefully examining the two 
horses, and he now faced the stranger. 

"Confounded ill manners of an idiot !" muttered Life. 
"It's singular how short many men are in good breeding," 
now resuming his story — "before that colt of mine — " 

"My name's Johnson," admitted the newcomer, giving 
Life another check in his story, "but I'm not a Peaville man 
by any means." 

"Hope you'll excuse me. I can see now I was partly 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 231 

mistaken. How 's the potato crop over your way?" 

"Light, and it look's so the few that stood the drought 
are going to rot." 

"That's what I have said. Your hoss interferes a 
little, don't he ?" 

"Never knew him to brush a hair." 

"It may be the way he stood. Slim legs, open nostrils, 
peaked ears, wide chest, looks so he might get along com- 
fortably ten mile an hour." 

"There ain't many as like to pick him up on the road, 
I have noticed," returned Mr. Johnson, taking up one of 
the mare's fore feet and adding: "Pinched a little " 

Squire Newbegin crossed over to where Abe Goodwill 
was listening to the remarks of the others, and said to him 
in a iow tone : 

"That man Johnson is set on buying Bet. Don't let 
him fool you, Abe. There is good money in that mare. 
Tell your father that before he sells her to see me. You 
can say that I make a standing offer of one hundred dollars 
for her." 

"Waked up to what was going on," said Life, conclud- 
clbding his sentence as Mr. Johnson finished. "When 
Black Joe wakes up something has got to be done. I 
didn't cluck any more to him, and I didn't take out my 
whip as I had started to do, but I jess braced myself — " 

"Hay crop come in well, I reckon," said Jenness, still 
examining Mr. Johnson's horse. 

"Fair. Lots wet the last part of the season." 

"'Bout the same everywhere, I calculate. Ever swap 
hosses, Mr. Johnson?" 

"Oh, once in a dog's age. Got a good family hoss you 
want to turn? One a woman can drive and not expect that 
every flying paper or white stone is going to send the hoss 
kiting into the ditch ?" 

"Dunno — it may be. Trade this animal for such a 
creature?" 

"Not exactly. I keep him for my own driving. Lit- 



232 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

tie skittish, so I couldn't recommend him for a family hoss. 
Do you know a man by the name of Newbeget in this 
vicinity — Isaac Newbeget, I think ?" 

The countenance of the auctioneer changed slightly at 
this question, but he lost little time in saying: 

"No such man in these parts. In fact I never knew 
such a man, and I have become tolerably well acquainted 
for roundabout near fifty miles. I think there is a man liv- 
ing over in Goshenbury by some such a name. Come over 
to my house, Mr. Johnson, and I will show you a little 
Canuck I've got. I know I can please you." 

" — held onto 'em straps," declared Life, improving his 
opportunity. "I tell you 'twas all I wanted to do, and my 
arms ain't got done achin' yet. What, gentlemen, if you 
would believe it, that air colt jess pulled my heavy wagon 
by th' reins. Th' traces didn't so much as stiffen once. 
But the upstart — " 

"This man I want to find is very prominent in town, 
and it is said has his eye-teeth cut for business. I was told 
he'd be likely to lodge and feed me." 

" — seein', I s'pose, that was th' only way he could keep 
th' road, he rattled right down the main aisle, so that air 
colt of mine could in no way get past without wreckin' both 
th' waggins. He knowed better'n to do that, so he spun 
for a quarter, with his head in the dum fool's boot, an' he 
wallopin' his hoss his best to get out'n th' way. He couldn't 
leave us an inch, an' all he could do was to block the way, 
which any clumsy jackass might hev done with more con- 
sistency. It was dum vexin' to a cool-headed man, an' I 
vowed that air colt of mine should go past or I'd bust his 
waggin. Black Joe was of the same mind, too, as I 
knowed by th' way he laid back his ears he meant business. 
Wa'al, we were clus down to th' Narrers, th' dum poppin- 
jay ahead, a-chucklin' to him — " 

"It must be Squire Newbegin you are lookin' for, Mr. 
Johnson," spoke up a bystander; "him as stands over by 
th' boy, Abe Goodwill. Th' squire puts up folks as they 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 233 

come along." 

"He must be my man. I got a little twisted in the 
name. Thank you, sir." 

"Confounded numbskull, Dave Journeyman ! why didn 't 
you hold your tongue?" demanded the angry Jenness in a 
low tone aside, as Mr. Johnson advanced to shake hands 
with the squire. "Now you have put another good boss 
trade into the squire's hands." 

By this time the crowd, seeing nothing exciting was 
likely to take place, began to disperse. Jock Jenness 
waited impatiently for an opportunity to speak to Mr. John- 
son, who seemed to have thrown himself on the hospitality 
of the other. Finally his patience was rewarded. 

" — self thinkin' he had chucked that air colt an' me 
inter a hole," said the soft, persuasive voice of Life again 
improving the momentary hush in the sound of speakers, 
"I see th' road was narrer and gettin' narrerer, an' likewise 
Black Joe see it, too. Now I ain't prone to hoss racin', 
but th' way that dum foolscap had used me naturally set my 
nater on aidge. So, when I see Black Joe throw back his 
ears tight 'n th' strings to a drum, an' knowin' watchin' his 
chance, I jess hild my. holt on 'em reins stout and farm, an' 
let him have his way. Th' stranger was coverin' the whole 
dummed road, but when his waggin slew a bit the light 
come in a bit ahead of me. I see th' spine of Joe sort of 
curve, his heed went down a bit, an' I knowed th' time had 
come. I braced my feet well ag'in the dash-board, but 
afore I could say Jack — " 

"Come up to my house a little while, Johnson," said 
Jock Jenness, at that moment. You'll have plenty of time 
to get round to the squire's for supper." 

"I'll come up in th' morning, Jenness. Glad to have 
met you ; heard of you long before I struck town." 

"Perhaps I'll drive down this evening. Hullo! come 
to think on't I've an errand to the store, so I'll drive along 
with you." 

"There's goin' to be some fun at th' Centre, an' sum- 



234 AUTUMNAL TINTS 

buddy's goin' to get shaved like thunder!" declared a by- 
stander, falling in with the procession that was starting 
toward the village. 

" — Robinson, I see that colt come inter the air, an', if 
you would believe it, gentlemen, he actually cleared th' 
hind wheel an' buddy of that dummed fool's waggin, car- 
ryin' my waggin with him, an' me settin' there as stubbid 
as a stump, as slick as rollin' off'n a log ! No sooner had 
his toes struck terror farma than he laid down to work, an' 
he kivered that dummed nigger so with dust I lost sight of 
him in less'n a minnit. Has th' squire another hoss trade 
on hand?" and he joined the procession, though moving with 
a more moderate gait he reached the grocery somewhat 
behind the majority. 

(Begun in the July number; to be continued ) 



Butumnai Ctnte 

By George Bancroft Griffith 

The new and enchanting pictures now, 
Autumn, the wondrous limner, makes, 

And Ceres with garlands on her brow 

Through harvest fields her slow way takes. 

These parting glories of the year, 

So sweetly blent with lights and shades, 

To all our hearts are ever dear; 

Though soon the gorgeous pageant fades. 

Old winding roads and charming lanes 
We daily haunt in dreamy mood ; 

What gleaming shrubs adorn the plains, — 
Serene and calm each stately wood ! 

Where late the dark recesses were, 
Sunshiny brightness now appears; 

And warmer seem the pine and fir 

When nature's crowning glory cheers. 

Behold, enjoy, and lessons learn, 

Before these things are sered or dry ; 

To memory's glass we'll fondly turn 
When Winter rules the earth and sky ! 



<3rije e&ttor's; t©mboto 



J. B. M. writes : "Your poems upon old homes recalls 
to mind a song that was very popular in my boyhood days, 
and which I would very much like to see in print. It was 
entitled 'My Old Kentucky Home.' I think it was written 
by Stephen Foster. Can you reprint the poem with a 
sketch of the author?" 

While the poem referred to is not a New Hampshire 
subject, nor was its author a native of our state, yet we 
shall be glad to accede to our contributor's request in an 
early number. 



"The first minister in Atkinson, N. H.," says G. B. G., 
"was the Rev. Stephen Peabody of Andover, Mass. He mar- 
ried, first, Polly Haseltine of Bradford, that state; second, 
Mrs. Elizabeth, widow of Rev. John Shaw of Haverhill. 
The latter was a sister of the wife of the first President 
Adams. She married Shaw in 1777 and Peabody in 1795. 
There is a generally credited tradition that Mr. Peabody 
had consulted Mrs. Shaw but a short time before her first 
husband's death in regard to his own 'lone' condition, and 
asked her advice as to the most suitable person to 'share his 
joys and his sorrows.' A particular candidate for such a 
partnership was recommended and agreed to, but before 
sufficient time had elapsed to consult the third party, Mr. 
Shaw suddenly died and, in his zeal to console the bereaved 
widow, Mr. Peabody entirely forgot the claims of the origi- 
nal candidate, and was so soon announced as the 'happy 
man' that it was even whispered that the previous decision 
was revised on the day of the funeral." 

235 



236 the editor's window 



3&otz& an& Queries 

Under this head we are pleased to inaugurate a department which 
has been in our mind since the first number of the Granite State Maga- 
zine. We shall be glad to receive questions from any and every reader of 
the magazine, and also to get replies to the queries propounded. Remem- 
ber this department is open to all, and we hope it will become one of the 
•most interesting and valuable features of this publication. As a conven- 
ience for reference each query will be given the number in which it came, 
and all answers will refer to this. — Editor. 

1. What is the origin of the song, "Yankee Doodle?" 

Old Man of the Mountain. 

2. Can anybody give the date of the oldest dwelling 
house erected within the territory of New Hampshire? If 
so, when and by whom was it built ? 

B. M. B. 

3. When did the rifle first come into actual use in this 
country, and who used it ? 

Truth Seeker. 

4. Why is Massachusetts called a "Commonwealth" 
and New Hampshire a "State"? I think there are other 
states designated as commonwealths. Which are they ? 

Inquirer. 

5. What is meant by "Old" and "New Style" of 
reckoning time ? 

Young Student. 

6. Will you give me the origin of the word "Puritan?" 

X. Y. Z. 

7. Is there in New Hampshire an old meeting house 
that retains the old-style pews and pulpit with sounding 
board ? 

Eleanor Fairfield. 



ft 



fllllfl 



•lite ■■ ^ w 

OLDTIME THANKSGIVING SERVICE 



W\)tn ^fjall Wt Cljree M^tt 
$gain 

When shall we three meet again? 
When shall we three meet again? 
Oft shall glowing hopes expire, 
Oft shall wearied love retire, 
Oft shall death and sorrow reign 
Ere we three shall meet again. 

Though in distant lands we sigh, 
Parched beneath a burning sky, 
Though the deep between us rolls, 
Friendship shall unite our souls, 
And in fancy's wide domain 
Oft shall we three meet again. 



When these burnished locks are gray, 
Thinn'd by many a toil-spent day, 
When around this youthful pine 
Moss shall creep and ivy twine, 
Long may this loved bower remain, 
Here may we three meet again. 

When the dreams of life are fled, 
When its wasted lamps are dead, 
When in cold oblivion's shade 
Beauty, wealth and fame are laid, 
Where immortal spirits reign, 
There may we three meet again. 
237 






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Col. HENRY E. BALDWIN 











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HENRY E. CARLETON 



aBrantte ^tate jflBaga^me 

Vol. II. NOVEMBER, 1906. No. 5. 



The First Illustrated Paper Published 
J 

By C. M. Brown 

The credit of originating the first illustrated paper has been given to 
Mr. Frederic Gleason of Boston, Mass., who in 1850 began the publication 
of Cleason's Pictorial Drawing Room Companion, which proved an imme- 
diate success. But according to the researches of our contributor there 
had already been issued in New Hampshire an illustrated paper whose 
first cartoon antedates the other by more than ten years. As far as we 
know Whip and Spur was the first paper to furnish illustrations, not only 
in this country but in the world. Surely no small meed of credit belongs 
to its versatile projector. — Editor. 

HIP ANU SPUR was a campaign newspaper pub- 
lished at Newport, N. H., and was first issued 
during the campaign preceding the March elec- 
tion of 1839. It contained four pages, eleven by sixteen 
and one-half inches in size, or one-half of the dimensions 
of the Argus and Spectator, from which office it emanated 
and which furnished the material needed in its make-up. 
Whip and Spur was printed, during its brief career of three 
months, once a week, its press work being done on an old 
Franklin press, its power applied by a lever, operated by a 
man. Its speed limit was one hundred copies an hour. 
The first volume ended with a number printed after the 
election of March 12, giving in detail the result of the 
recent contest. Following this, so great was its success, 
Whip and Spur was published during the presidential cam- 
paigns, appearing for the last time at the close of the elec- 
tion in i860. 

239 




240 WHIP AND SPUR 

The first owners and printers were the brothers Henry 
E. and Samuel C. Baldwin, of Newport. In this con- 
nection we cannot do better than quote the description 
given of them and their paper by Henry Guy Carleton, in 
the New Hampshire zArgus and Spectator, a short time 
before his decease, the article being the last he ever wrote: 

The Baldwins all inherited good intellectual qualities from their 
ancestors, besides a good share of mother wit and readiness of ex- 
pression. 

Henry E. Baldwin, the eldest, was different from his two brothers in 
both his mental and physical make-up. While we do not think he was the 
equal of his brother, Samuel C. Baldwin, as a thinker and writer, he pos- 
sessed other qualities which would easily have given him success in life 
had his industry been equal to his ability in the business he was best 
adapted to fulfill. He had learned the printing business and also the art 
of engraving upon wood. But continuous and close work in any line of 
business was no part of his make-up. The natural tendency of his mind 
was in drafting. Had he pursued this business with industry he would 
have acquired both wealth and fame. How often have we seen him take 
his pen or pencil and draw upon paper a rising eagle with its head erect 
and expanded wings about to take its flight to the regions above. We 
think there was nothing in animal or vegetable life that he could not 
readily put upon paper and give it a natural and life-like appearance. He 
had also a talent for making everything he drew appear ridiculous and 
laughable. He was really the founder of the Whip and Spur. 

The origin of the paper was entirely accidental, but it was a success 
from the start and enabled the publishers of the Argus and Spectator to 
put considerable money into their pockets while comparatively young 
men. Gen. James Wilson, a celebrated stump orator of Keene, N. H., 
made a speech in Faneuil Hall, Boston, in the spring election of 1839, in 
which he said that the "Whigs of New Hampshire needed the whip and 
spur — the spur rowel deep would set them upon the trot." This expres- 
sion caught Mr. Baldwin's attention, and he immediately drew out upon 
paper the State House with General Wilson seated upon a large horse 
with a long whip in one hand and very large spurs, rowel deep in the 
horse's flesh, driving the Whig party, which was represented by a large 
■ number of men to the State House. This picture, was shown to Hon. 
Edmund Burke, who induced Mr. Baldwin to make a good-sized wood 
engraving of it and publish a small campaign paper, twelve weeks before 
the state election. The engraved head was brought out in good shape, 
and with a few other small illustrative cuts gave the first number a splendid 
illustrative appearance. It took like wildfire and a circulation of nearly 
four thousand was readily obtained in the state. The price was twenty- 



WHIP AND SPUR 241 

five cents, or five copies to one address for one dollar. And here we must 
say that it was the first illustrated newspaper that we ever saw. If there 
had been other illustrated papers printed before that time, the spring elec- 
tion of 1839, we never knew it. The paper was never after printed in a 
state election, but was printed every presidential year down to i860, when 
the postoffice laws were so changed as to render it not so remunerative. 

If our memory is correct, and we think it is, there was never less than 
twelve thousand subscribers in any presidential year with the exception of 
i860, when a good subscription was then obtained. We recollect that the 
mail bags were not sufficient to take them away directly and that they 
were sent by way of Grantham, Lempster and Acworth and to other 
through routes. 

We must say a few laughable things in regard to Colonel Baldwin, 
which we know or was told by him. When the first number of the Whip 
and Spur was being put in type the work was somewhat delayed, Colonel 
Baldwin, who was a man of no work, came into the office at night to 
look over the first number printed and see if it was all right. He waited 
impatiently, sometimes walking about the office and at other times sitting 
down, until the office clock was nearing the hour of twelve when, anxious 
to retire, he put his hand upon his brother's shoulder and rather loudly 
exclaimed: "Sam, Sam, when will this paper come out?" Kis brother 
immediately exclaimed : "Not until several of the small hours of the 
morning are reached." He immediately said : "Sam, Sam, I opine we 

shall get d sick of this Whip and Spur" when a loud laugh went out 

from the office hands and the work went on. The paper came out in good 
shape and Colonel Baldwin always felt proud of its birth. This was the 
only time the paper was published by the Baldwins. 

The story of the Whip and Spur, as above related, was 
told the writer of this article several years ago by the ven- 
erable editor, whose newspaper experiences began when he 
went into the office of the Argus and Spectator, in 1832, in 
companionship with the Baldwins. But for him the name 
and credit of the idea for first illustrating a newspaper 
must have been lost. A search was begun by us at once 
for a copy of the Whip and Spur, having on its title-page 
the. first cut ever furnished in the United States, if not in 
the whole world. Several years before the tArgus and 
Spectator office had been burned with all its newspaper 
files, the Whip and Spur with the rest. Finally a few copies 
of this interesting publication were found in the vault of 
the state library at Concord, and among them the very num- 



242 



WHIP AND SPUR 



ber wanted. This was dated at Newport, N. H., March 
12, 1839; Number XI, Volume 1. The cut appeared at the 
center of the top of the title-page, with the words in bold- 
face type "Whip &" on the left hand, and "Spur!" on the 
opposite side. Underneath the cartoon was the quotation 
from General Wilson as given. 



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It will be observed that Mr. Carleton in his account 
speaks of General Wilson as seated upon a horse, proving 
how easy it is for the memory to be deceived. Had the 
artist made a drawing after that style his work would have 
lost the effect sought for in his caricature, where ridicule is 
the means used to obtain the desired result. Besides illus- 



WHIP AND SPUR 243 

trating the peculiar gift of the artist, the woodcut, of 
which we are fortunate enough to have a copy that had 
been used only a few times, gives a good idea of the polit- 
ical spirit of the times. General Wilson is astride the back 
of a big man supposed to represent the Whig candidate for 
member of congress. The rowel upon the foot of the 
rider has wrought sad havoc with the seat of his victim's 
pants. The quotation under the cartoon was from a speech 
which had been recently delivered by him, before a large 
audience, in Faneuil Hall, Boston. The papers flying about 
were the newspapers of the day, The Boston Courier, Atlas, 
Centinel, and others. One inscription reads "Nigger." By 
referring to the contents of the old sheet, we discover that 
the anti-slavery sentiment was evident. 

Gen. James Wilson, Jr., was a prominent lawyer and 
politician of the state at that time, and one of the most 
eloquent speakers that ever addressed an audience. He 
was of majestic figure, being six feet and four inches in 
height. The object of the caricature is plain when we say 
that he was the Whig candidate for governor of New 
Hampshire, while the Democrats, of whom the Whip and 
Spur was a campaign representative, supported John Page, 
who was elected and served 1 839-1 842. General Wilson, 
soon after election, went to California. 

Mr. Baldwin followed up his first success with many 
other drawings of a similar nature, showing that he had a 
deep insight into the ridiculous aspect of a subject, and he 
never failed to present it in a most laughable manner. His 
cartoons were a power in their day, making him a Thomas 
Nast of an early date. Who knows but the celebrated car- 
toonist obtained his inspiration for illustrating political situ- 
ations, which he carried to a power no other man has 
reached, from seeing Colonel Baldwin's cartoons in Whip 
and Spur} Certainly no one can say the latter copied. 
Wheeler's history of Newport, N. H., throws additional 
light upon the life of this artist under the heading of 
" Literature." 



244 THE VALLEYS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE 

Henry E. Baldwin, who was for a time editor of the 
Jlrgus and Spectator, and subsequently of the Lowell 
Courier, wielded a ready pen and was an agreeable writer. 
He sometimes indulged in poetry. His "Pencillings by the 
Way," written during a trip in the west, were in the best 
of humor and were republished in several journals. He 
was the son of Erastus Baldwin and was born December 
19, 1815. He filled the offices of register of deeds and 
judge of probate for Sullivan county and was at one time 
clerk of the state senate. For four years he was an officer 
of the Boston custom house. He was a private secretary 
to President Pierce and took a deep interest in the welfare of 
his native town. His social nature, agreeable manners and 
uniform courtesy won for him many friends. He died at 
Washington, D. C, February 12, 1855, aged forty-one 
years. He married Marcia, daughter of Thomas P. Gil- 
more, of Newport. 

It will be noticed that he made his first drawing in 
1839, at the age of twenty-four. The fine half tone which 
appears in this number of the Granite State Magazine 
was made for us from a pen drawing made of him about the 
time he engraved upon wood his original cartoon for Whip 
and Spur. 



Cfje Galley* of Jkto iifampsifctre 



By T. C. Harbaugh 

The Valleys of New Hampshire, 

How beautiful they lie 
By Nature robed like Sheba's queen 

Beneath the azure sky ; 
Each one doth glitter in the sun 

As bright as brightest gem, 
And Memory takes me by the hand 

And leads me back to them. 



THE VALLEYS OF NEW HAMPSHIRE 245 

The Valleys of New Hampshire 

With music often ring, 
For deep within their wooded realms 

The feathered songsters sing ; 
And many a river, crystal clear, 

Beneath the ancient tree, 
From sun to shade, from shade to sun, 

Leaps to the distant sea. 

O Valleys of New Hampshire ! 

What matchless beauty lies 
Deep in the fair, translucent depths 

Of all thy daughters' eyes ! 
Your name is known around the world, 

And o'er your sacred dead, 
When summer gently rules the world. 

The lily lifts her head. 

O Valleys of New Hampshire ! 

In memory you can see 
The glist'ning spears that long ago 

Flashed 'neath the hoary tree ; 
And up and down your peaceful paths 

Beneath the starry arch, 
At night, when all around is still, 

The scarlet legions march. 

O Valleys of New Hampshire ! 

Forever may ye know 
The blessings sweet of peace and love 

The hands of God bestow ; 
Your sons the bravest of the brave, 

Your daughters bright and fair, 
Your fame as lasting as the walls 

That Ocean's powers dare. 





Causes of tfje American Ctebolutton 

By James H. Stark 

O ANY statesman who looked into the question 
inquiringly and with clear vision, it must have 
appeared evident that, if the English colonies 
resolved to sever themselves from the British Empire, it 
would be impossible to prevent them. Their population 
was said to have doubled in twenty-five years. They were 
separated from the mother country by three thousand miles of 
water, their seaboard extended for more than one thousand 
miles, their territory was almost boundless in its extent and 
resources and the greater part of it no white man had trav- 
ersed or seen. To conquer such a country would be a task 
of greatest difficulty and stupendous cost. To hold it in 
opposition to the general wish of the people would be im- 
possible. The colonists were chiefly small and independent 
freeholders, hardy backwoodsmen and hunters, well skilled 
in the use of arms and possessed of all the resources and 
energies which life in a new country seldom fails to develop. 
They had representative assemblies to levy taxes and organ- 
ize resistance. They had militia, which in some colonies 
included all adult freemen between the ages of sixteen and 
fifty or sixty and, in addition to Indian raids, they had the 
military experience of two great wars. The first capture 
of Louisburg, in 1745, had been mainly their work. In the 
latter stages of the war, which ended in 1763, there were 
more than twenty thousand colonial troops under arms, ten 
thousand of them from New England alone, and more than 
four hundred privateers had been fitted out in colonial 
harbors.* 



♦Ramsey, History of the American Revolution, Vol. I. page 40; Hildreth, Vol. II, 
page 486; Grahame, Vol. IV, page 94. 

246 



CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 247 

There were assuredly no other colonies in the world 
so favorably situated as these were at the close of the 
Seven Years' War. They had but one grievance, the 
Navigation Act, and it is a gross and flagrant misrepre- 
sentation to describe the commercial policy of England as 
exceptionally tyrannical. As Adam Smith truly said, 
"Every European nation had more or less taken to itself 
the commerce of its colonies, and upon that account had 
prohibited the ships of foreign nations from trading with 
them, and had prohibited them from importing European 
goods from any foreign nation," and "though the policy of 
Great Britain with regard to the trade of her colonies has 
been dictated by the same mercantile spirit as that of other 
nations, it has, upon the whole, been less illiberal and 
oppressive than any of them."* 

There is, no doubt, much to be said in palliation of the 
conduct of England. If Virginia was prohibited from 
sending her tobacco to any European country except Eng- 
land, Englishmen were prohibited from purchasing any 
tobacco except that which came from America or Bermuda. 
If many of the trades and manufactures in which the col- 
onies were naturally most fitted to excel were restrained or 
crushed by law, English bounties encouraged the cultiva- 
tion of indigo and the exportation to England of pitch, tar, 
hemp, flax and ship timber from America, and several 
articles of American produce obtained a virtual monopoly 
of the English market by their exemption from duties 
which were imposed on similar articles imported from for- 
eign countries. 

The revenue laws were habitually violated. Smuggling 
was very lucrative, and therefore very popular, and 
any attempt to interfere with it was greatly resented. 
The attention of the British goverment was urgently 
called to it during the war. At a time when Great 
Britain was straining every nerve to free the English 
colonies from the incubus of France, and when millions of 

•Wealth of Nations, Vol. IV, chapter 7; Tucker's Four Tracts, page 133. 



248 CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

pounds sterling were being remitted from England to pay 
colonists for fighting in their own cause, it was found that 
French fleets, French garrisons, and the French West India 
Islands were systematically supplied with large quantities 
of provisions by the New England colonies. Pitt, who still 
directed affairs, wrote with great indignation that this con- 
traband trade must be stopped, but the whole community 
of the New England seaports appeared to favor or was 
partaking in it, and great difficulty was found in putting 
the law into execution. 

From a legal point of view, the immense activity of 
New England was for the most part illicit. In serene igno- 
rance the New England sailor penetrated all harbors, con- 
veying in their holds, from the North, where they belonged, 
various sorts of interdicted merchandise and bringing home 
cargoes equally interdicted from all the ports they touched. 
The merchants who, since 1749, through Hutchinson's 
excellent statesmanship, had been free from the results of a 
bad currency greatly throve. The shipyards teemed with 
fleets, each nook of the coast was the seat of mercantile 
ventures. It was then that in all the shore towns arose the 
fine colonial mansions of the traders along the main streets, 
that are even admired to-day for their size and comeliness. 
Within the houses bric-a-brac from every clime came to 
abound, and the merchants and their wives and children 
were clothed gaily in rich fabrics from remote regions. 
Glowing reports of the gaiety and luxury of the colonies 
reached the mother country.* The merchants and sailors 
were, to a man, law-breakers. It was this universal law- 
breaking, after the fall of Quebec, that the English minis. 
try undertook to stop over its extended empire. This 
caused friction, which gave rise to fire, which increased 
until the ties with the mother land were quite consumed. 

As early as 1762 there were loud complaints in Parlia- 
ment of the administration of custom houses in the colonies. 



•Gordon's History of the American War, Vol. I, page 157. 



CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 249 

Grenville found on examination that the whole revenue 
derived by England from the custom houses in America 
amounted only to between one and two thousand pounds a 
year, and that for the purpose of collecting this revenue the 
English exchequer was paying annually between seven and 
eight thousand pounds. Nine-tenths, probably, of all the 
tea, wine, fruit, sugar and molasses consumed in the colonies 
were smuggled.* Grenville determined to terminate this 
state of affairs. Several new revenue officers were appointed 
with more rigid rules for the discharge of their duties. 
"Writs of assistance" were to be issued, anthorizing cus- 
tom house officers to search any house they pleased for 
smuggled goods. English ships of war were at the same 
time stationed off the American coast for the purpose of 
intercepting smugglers. 

Grenville resolved strictly to enforce the trade laws, to 
established permanently in America a British force of about 
ten thousand men and to raise by light parliamentary tax- 
ation of Americans at least a part of the money which was 
necessary for its support. These three measures produced 
the American Revolution f There is not a fragment of evi- 
dence that any English statesman or any class of people 
desired to raise by direct taxation anything for purposes 
entirely English. The colonists were not asked to contribute 
for the navy that protected their coasts or the English debt. 
The colonists had profited by the successful war incompar- 
ably more than any other British subjects. Until the 
destruction of the French power, a hand armed with a rifle 
or tomahawk and torch seemed constantly near the thresh- 
old of every New England home. The threatening hand 
was now paralyzed and the fringe of plantations by the 
coast could now extend itself to the illimitable West in 
safety. No foreign foe could now dictate a boundary line 



♦Hildreth, Vol. II, page 498; McPherson's Annals of Commerce, Vol. Ill, page 330; 
Arnold's History of Rhode Island, Vol. II, pages 227-235. 

fGrenvUle Papers, Vol. II, page 114; Bancroft, Vol. II, page 178; Sabine, American 
Loyalists, Vol. I, page 12; Lecky, American Revolution, page 52. 



250 CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

and bar the road beyond it. The colonists were asked only 
to bear a share in the burden of the empire by a contribu- 
tion to the sum required for maintenance of the ten thou- 
sand soldiers and of the armed fleetwhich was unquestion- 
ably necessary for the protection of their long coast line and 
of their commerce. 

James Otis started the Revolution in New England by 
what Mr. Lecky calls an "incendiary speech" against writs 
of assistance, and if half of what Hildreth asserts and 
Bancroft admits in regard to smuggling along the coast of 
New England is true, there is no reason to wonder that 
such writs were unpopular in Boston. James Otis, whose 
father had just been disappointed in his hopes of obtaining 
a seat upon the bench, was no doubt an eloquent man and 
all the more dangerous because he often thought he was 
right. That it is always prudent to distrust the eloquence 
of a criminal lawyer we have ample proof, in the advice 
he gave the people on the passage of the Stamp Act. "It 
is the duty," he said, "of all, humbly and silently to acqui- 
esce in all the decisions of the supreme legislature. Nine 
hundred and ninety-nine in a thousand of the colonists will 
never once entertain a thought but of submission to our 
sovereign and to authority of Parliament, in all possible 
contingencies. They undoubtedly have the right to levy 
internal taxes on the colonies." 

In private talk hewas more vigorous than in his formal 
utterance. "Hallowell says that Otis told him Parliament 

had a right to tax the colonies and he was a d fool 

who denied it, and that this people would never be quiet 
till we had a council from home, till our charter was taken 
away and till we had regular troops quartered upon us."* 

John Adams wrote in his diary, under date of January 
16, 1770, concerning Otis, as follows: "In one word Otis 
will spoil the club. He talks so much and takes up so 
much of our time and fills it with trash, obsceneness, pro- 



*John Adams' Diary, January 16, 1776. 



CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 251 

faneness, nonsense and distraction that we have none left 
for rational amusements or inquiries. I fear, I tremble, I 
mourn for the man and for his country. Many others 
mourn over him with tears in their eyes." 

Again John Adams says, after an attack upon him by 
Otis: "There is a complication of malice, envy and jealousy 
in the man, in the present disorded state of his mind, that 
is quite shocking.'t On the 7th of May, 1771, Otis, who 
at this time had recovered his reason, was elected with John 
Hancock to the assembly. They both left their party and 
went over to the side of the government. John Adams 
wrote, "Otis' change was indeed startling. John Chandler, 
Esq., of Petersham gave me an account of Otis' conversion 
to Toryism, etc." Hutchinson, writing to Governor Ber- 
nard, says "Otis was carried off to-day in a post-chaise, 
bound hand and foot. He has been as good as his word — 
set the Province in a flame and perished in the attempt." 

In Virginia the revolutionary movement of the poor 
whites or "crackers," led by Patrick Henry was against the 
planter aristocrary, and Washington was a conspicuous 
member of the latter class. In tastes, manners, instincts 
and sympathies he might have been taken as an admirable 
specimen of the better class of English country gentlemen, 
and he had a great deal of the strong conservative feeling 
which is natural to that class. He was in the highest 
sense a gentleman and a man of honor, and he carried into 
public life the severest standard of private morals. 

It was only slowly and very deliberately that Washing- 
ton identified himself with the disunionist cause. No 
man had a deeper admiration for the British constitution, 
or a more sincere desire to preserve the connection, and to 
put an end to the disputes between the two countries. 
From the first promulgation of the Stamp Act, however, he 
adopted the conviction that a recognition of the sole right 



fjohn Adams' Diary. October 27, 1772; John Adams' Works, Vol. II, page 26; Letters 
to Bernard, December 3, 1771. 



25*2 CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

of the colonies to tax themselves was essential to their free- 
dom, and as soon as it became evident that Parliament was 
resolved at all hazards to assert its authority by taxing the 
Americans, he no longer hesitated. Of all the great men 
in history he was the most invariably judicious, and there 
is scarcely a rash word or action or judgment related of him. 
America had found in Washington a leader who could be 
induced by no earthly motive to tell a falsehood or to break 
an engagement or to commit a dishonorable act. 

In the despondency of long-continued failure, in the 
elation of sudden success, at times when his soldiers were 
deserting by hundreds, and when malignant plots were 
formed against his reputation; amid the constant quarrels, 
rivalries and jealousies of his subordinates; in the dark 
hour of national ingratitude and in the midst of the most 
universal and intoxicating flattery, he was always the same 
calm, wise, just and single-minded man, pursuing the course 
which he believed to be right, without fear, favor or 
fanaticism. 

In civil as in military life he was pre-eminent among 
his contemporaries for the clearness and soundness of his 
judgment, for his perfect moderation and self-control, for 
the quiet dignity and the indomitable firmness with which 
he pursued every path which he had deliberately chosen. 

An previously stated, the heart of the Old Dominion 
was fired by Patrick Henry, one of the most unreliable men 
living. Byron called him a forest-born Demosthenes, and 
Jefferson, wondering over his career, exclaimed : ''Where 
he got that torrent of language is inconceivable. I have fre- 
quently closed my eyes while he spoke and, when he was 
done, asked myself what he had said without being able to 
recollect a word of it." He had been successively a store- 
keeper, a farmer and a shopkeeper, but had failed in all 
these pursuits and became a bankrupt at twenty-three. 
Then he studied law a few weeks and practiced a few years. 
The first success he made in this line was in an effort to 
persuade a jury to render one of the most unjust verdicts 



CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 253 

ever recorded in court. Finally he embarked on the stormy 
sea of politics. One day he worked himself into a fine 
frenzy, and in a most dramatic manner demanded "Liberty 
or Death," although he had both freely at his disposal. 
He was a slaveholder nearly all his life. He bequeathed 
slaves and cattle in his will and one of his eulogists brags 
that he would buy or sell a horse or a negro as well as any- 
body. 

The Stamp Act received the royal assent on March 22 
1765, and it was to come into operation on the first day of 
November following. The "Virginia Resolutions," through 
which Patrick Henry first acquired a continental fame, 
voted by the House of Burgess in May following, denyed 
very definitely the authority of Parliament to tax the col- 
onies. At first men recoiled. Otis was reported to have 
publicly condemned them in King street, which was no 
doubt true, for, as we have seen, he fully admitted the 
supremacy of Parliament. 

The principal objection made by the colonists to the 
Stamp Act was that it was an internal tax. They denied 
the right of Parliament to impose internal taxation, claim- 
ing that to be a function that could be exercised only by 
colonial assemblies. They admitted, however, that Parlia- 
ment had a right to levy duties on exports and imports, and 
they had submitted to such taxation for many years with- 
out complaint. 

In order to soften the opposition, and to consult to the 
utmost of his power the wishes of the colonists, Grenville 
informed the colonial agents that the distribution of the 
stamps should be confided not to Englishmen but to Amer- 
icans. Franklin, then agent for Pennsylvania, accepted the 
act and, in his canny way, took steps to have a friend 
appointed stamp distributor for his province. This made 
him very unpopular and the mob threatened to destroy his 
house. 

The Stamp Act, when its ultimate consequences are 
considered, must be deemed one of the most momentous 



254 CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

legislative acts in the history of mankind. 

A timely concession of a few seats in the upper and 
lower houses of the Imperial Parliament would have set at 
rest the whole dispute. Franklin had suggested it ten 
years before, anticipating even Otis, Grenville was quite 
ready to favor it, Adam Smith advocated it. Why did the 
scheme fail? Just at that time in Massachusetts a man 
was rising into provincial note, who was soon to develop a 
heat, truly fanatical, in favor of an idea quite inconsistent 
with Franklin's plan. He from the first claimed that rep- 
resentation of the colonies in Parliament was quite imprac- 
ticable or, if accepted, would be of no benefit to the col- 
onies, and that there was no fit state for them but inde- 
pendence. His voice at first was but a solitary cry in the 
midst of a tempest, but it prevailed mightily in the end. 

This sole expounder of independence was Samuel 
Adams, the father of the Revolution. Already his influ- 
ence was superseding that of Otis, in stealthy ways of 
which neither Otis nor those who made an idol of him 
were sensible, putting into the minds of men, in the place 
of the ideas for which Otis stood, radical conceptions which 
were to change in due time the whole future of the world. 
"Samuel Adams at this time was a man of forty-two years 
of age, but already gray and bent with a physical infirmity 
which kept his head and hands shaking like those of a 
paralytic. He was a man of broken fortunes, a ne'er-do- 
.well in his private business, a failure as a tax collector, the 
only public office he had thus far undertaken to discharge."* 
He had an hereditary antipathy to the British government, 
for his father was one of the principal men connected with 
Land-Bank delusion, and was ruined by the restrictions 
which Parliament imposed on the circulation of paper 
money, causing the closing up of the bank by act of Parlia- 
ment and leaving debts which seventeen years later were 
still unpaid. 



*Hosmer, Life ot Hutchinson, page 82. 



CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 255 

It appears that Governor Hutchinson was a leading 
person in dissolving the bank, and from that time Adams 
was the bitter enemy of Hutchinson and the government. 
Hutchinson in describing him says, "Mr. S. Adams had 
been one of the directors of the land bank in 1741 which 
was dissolved by act of Parliament. After his decease his 
estate was put up for sale by public auction, under author- 
ity of an act of the General Assembly. The son first made 
himself conspicuous on this occasion. He attended the 
sale, threatened the sheriff to bring action against him and 
threatened all who should attempt to enter upon the estate 
under pretence of a purchase, and by intimidating both the 
sheriff and those persons who intended to purchase, he pre- 
vented the sale, kept the estate in his possession and the 
debts to the land bank remained unsatisfied. He was after- 
wards a collector of taxes for the town of Boston and made 
defalcation which caused an additional tax upon the inhab- 
itants. He was for nearly twenty years a writer against 
government in the public newspapers. Long practice 
caused him to arrive at great perfection and to acquire a 
talent of artfully and fallaciously insinuating into the minds 
of readers a prejudice against the characters of all he 
attacked beyond any other man I ever knew, and he made 
more converts to his cause by calumniating governors and 
other servants of the crown than by strength of reasoning. 
The benefit to the town from his defence of their liberties, 
he supposed an equivalent to his arrears as their collector, 
and prevailing principle of the party that the end justified 
the means probably quieted the remorse he must have felt 
from robbing men of their characters and injuring them 
more than if he had robbed them of their estates."* 

In a letter written by Hutchinson about this time he 
thus characterizes his chief adversary : 

"I doubt whether there is a greater incendiary in the 
King's dominion or a man of greater malignity of heart, 



'Hutchinson's History, Vol. Ill, pages 294-295, 



256 CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

who has less scruples any measure ever so criminal to 
accomplish his purposes ; and I think I do him no injustice 
when I suppose he wishes the destruction of every friend 
to government in America."* 

In a letter dated March 13, 1769, Adams petitioned the 
town, requesting that he be discharged from his indebted- 
ness to the town for the amount that he was in arrears as 
tax collector. He states that the town treasurer, by order 
of the town, had put his bond in suit and recovered judg- 
ment for the sum due ^"2009.88. He stated that his debts 
and ;£iio6.ii will fully complete the sum which he owes 
and requests "that the town would order him a final dis- 
charge upon the condition of his paying the aforesaid sum 
of ;£iio6.ii into the province treasury." This letter of 
Adams to the town of Boston fully confirms the statement 
made by Hutchinson that he was a defaulter, for it appears 
from this letter that during the several years he was col- 
lector of taxes for the town, that he did not make a proper 
return for the taxes which he had collected, and it was only 
after suit and judgment had been obtained against his 
bondsmen that restitution was made, his sureties having to 
pay over $5,000 in cash and the balance was made up of 
uncollected taxes. "t 

Adams was poor, simple, ostentatiously austere ; the 
blended influence of Calvinistic theology and republican 
principles had indurated his whole character. He hated 
monarchy and the Episcopal church, all privileged classes 
and all who were invested with dignity and rank, with a 
fierce hatred. He was the first to foresee and to desire an 
armed struggle, and he now maintained openly that any 
British troops which landed should be treated as enemies, 
attacked and if possible destroyed. 



*M. A. History, Vol. XXV. page 437. 

fThis letter was purchased at the E. H. Leffingwell sale of January 6, 1891, for $185, by 
the city of Boston, and can be seen in the city clerk's office. In connection with this see 
"Life of Samuel Adams," by his gTeat-grandson , William V. Wells, Vol. I, pages 35-38. 
Here he emphatically denies that bonds or sureties were given by collectors. Evidently he 
had not consulted Boston Town Records. 1767, page 9. when it was voted that Samuel 
Adams' bond "shall be put in Suit." and when bonds and sureties were required of his suc- 
cessor, neither could he have known of the existence of this letter. 



Wfytn tfje Jfrost te on tfje Punfetn 
atrti tfje ifofciber 'g m tfje J>fjotfi 

By James Whitcomb Riley 

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder 's in the shock ; 

And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock. 

And the clackin' of the guineys and the cluckin' of the hens, 

And the rooster hallylooyers as he tip-toes on the fence ; 

Oh, its then 's the time a feller is a feelin' at his best, 

With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest. 

As he leaves the house bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock, 

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder 's in the shock. 

They 's somethin' kind o' harty like about the atmosfere, 
When the heat of summer's over, and the coolin' fall is here — 
Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees, 
And the mumble of the hummin '-birds and buzzin' of the bees . 
But the air 's so appetizin', and the landscape through the haze 
Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days 
Is a pictur' that a painter has the 'colorin' ' to mock — 
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder 's in the shock. 

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn, 
And the raspin' of the tangled leaves, as golden as the morn ; 
The stubble in the furries — kindo lonesome-like, but still 
A-preachin' sermons to us of the barns they growed to fill ; 
The -strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed; 
The horses in they's stalls below — the clover overhead! 
Oh, it sets my heart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock. 
When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder 's in the shock. 

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps 

Is poured around the cellar floor in red and yeller heaps ; 

And your cider makin' 's over, and your wimmen-folks is through 

With their mince and apple-butter and they 's souse and sausage too ; 

I don't know how to tell it — but ef sich a thing could be 

As the angels wantin' boardin', and they 'd call around on me — 

I'd want to 'commodate 'em — all the whole induring flock, 

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder 's in the shock. 

257 



<®fotime ^feettfjes; 

Recollections of Thanksgiving Day 

By Thb Nestor of the Farms 

We think of Thanksgiving at seeding time — 
In the swelling, unfolding, budding time. 
When the heart of Nature and hearts of men 
Rejoice in the Earth grown young again. 
We dream of the harvest, of field and vine, 
And granaries full, at Thanksgiving time. 

We think of Thanksgiving at resting time — 

The circle completed is but a chime 

In the song of life, in the lives of men ! 

We harvest the toil of our years, and then 

We wait at the gate of the King's highway, 

For the dawn of our soul's Thanksgiving Day. 

— Rose Hartwick Thorpe, 

f MONG our holidays there is not one that appeals 
>5?S^ with stronger bonds of sympathy to the gener- 
*"!^2^[ ation that is passing than Thanksgiving Day. It 
speaks of the birth of a new nation in a language 
of silence more forceful than the written word overshad- 
owed with the pomp of heraldry. It is true there were 
many days of thanksgiving, as wel as of fasting, years 
before that little band of Pilgrims moored their storm- 
tossed craft upon the rocky shore of Plymouth, but there 
had been but one — probably will never be another — cruci- 
fied with the Puritanic spirit. The actual significance of 
the observance of a national festival is found in the under- 
lying priciples that cluster about its origin. 

Considering our subject historically we find that the 
first Thanksgiving observance in America was celebrated 
by the Pilgrims in 162 1. It was first appointed by the 

258 



RECOLLECTIONS OF THANKSGIVING DAY 259 

authorities of Massachusetts, the mother of Thanksgivings, 
in 1633, again in 1634, 1637, 1638, 1639, 165 1, 1658 and in 
1680, when it seems to have become an annual custom. 
The first national appointment of a Thanksgiving Day was 
made by President Washington in 1789. Six years later he 
issued his second proclamation of a national day of thanks- 
giving. New York state as early as 1644 began to observe 
Thanksgiving Day in an occasional way, but until the 
beginning of the nineteenth century its observance was 
chiefly confined to New England. 

It was nine years before the second Thanksgiving was 
held, and then it was observed upon the twenty-second day 
of February. In November of the following year came the 
third, and though in one year there were two, for the suc- 
ceeding fifty years it was observed about once in two years, 
but not always in November. It came when the colonists 
felt they had the most to be thankful for, let that be a full 
harvest or an abundant rain. 

In those days, when there were no furnaces or steam 
radiators to warm the house from cellar to garret, the feast 
and enjoyments were to be found in the great living room, 
where a huge fireplace shone resplendent with the fire that 
crackled and roared and threw out its waves of heat, burn- 
ing the face almost to a blister while the cold chills played 
hide and seek up and down the back. But this condition 
did not rob the actors of their happiness. The company 
comprised a goodly number, and hearts beat just as rhyth- 
mically to the rounds of pleasure under homespun gar- 
ments as they do beneath the finest silk. In this time or 
riches do not enter. 

Within the time of my recollections the religious sever- 
ity of the day had softened, and the occasion had become 
one of family reunion rather than divine service. One's 
loss was another's gain, for somewhere in this changeable 
life of ours there is a common leveler of human destinies. 
The thoughts of yesterday are ever tempered by the con- 
sciousness of to-day. And life is wholly of the present. 



260 OLDTIME SKETCHES 

The future is only an anticipation. It required but the 
memory of grandmother to carry our childish minds back 
to the period when Thanksgiving meant the silencing of 
every form of mirth and irreverence. Long before mid- 
day the family, including even its youngest member r 
repaired to that sacred edifice, the old meeting. house. It 
was not known as a "church" in those days, and it was built 
after an architecture which had been brought to this coun- 
try, and which has vanished with the disappearance of the 
spirit that was its master-builder. 

In describing one of these old-fashioned houses of wor- 
ship I cannot do better than to quote from one who remem- 
bered it distinctly : 

"Its pews were square-like boxes, and the family, 
when seated on all sides of one, queerly resembled a sleigh 
riding party, the children and other inconsequential persons 
being placed with their backs to the minister. The pulpit 
was high and straight, and over the head of the preacher 
was suspended an immense sounding-board. The deacons 
had a pew to themselves in front of the pulpit, and the choir 
nearly filled the great galleries extending across three sides 
of the building, suggesting to the very young mind the old 
picture of Xerxes and his hosts, especially in rising to sing 
a hymn with the leader brandishing his enormous tuning- 
fork. When the choir stood the congregation stood also. 
The Thanksgiving sermon was most impressive. The 
learned pastor infused into it the heat of his own enthusiasm, 
the full measure of his own gratitude for blessings received. 
There was no ambiguity in his expressions, no confusion in 
his own thoughts of how much to attempt or how to dis- 
criminate. His style was simple and direct, his speech as 
spontaneous as that of an ingenuous, impetuous boy, his 
piety as transparent as glass." 

The cooking of a Thanksgiving dinner was looked 
upon as the supreme triumph of the housewife. To the 
younger members of the family it was the dream of a mys- 
tery. In the days of our grandmothers the old fireplace 



RECOLLECTION'S OF THANKSGIVING DAY 261 

was the throne of power. The long crane, which possibly 
had not been called upon to do duty since another such 
day as this, was drawn forward in place of the shorter ones 
of everyday cook craft. Iron kettles that had been resting 
in some corner were brought out and made ready for their 
part in the culinary work. Soon these, with smaller com- 
panions of different shapes and sizes, were spouting and 
stewing with their savory dishes. The huge brick oven had 
been heated with the driest fagots that could be found, and 
this, too, was filled to overflowing with pies of different 
kinds, pumpkin and apple predominating, and puddings of 
various kinds. A big, fat turkey was roasting to a nicety 
in the movable tin bake-oven, or perhaps it was a delicious 
chicken pie "cooking to suit the king" upon the same hos- 
pitable hearth. To follow this in detail would require too 
much space, as it did too much of the patience of the hun- 
gry waiter for his dinner. 

But all things come to the impatient as well as the 
patient waiter, and at last it was announced that dinner 
was ready. Such a dinner as it was ! Nothing like it is 
offered to-day. I doubt if there was ever another such 
a dinner outside of old New England. That ample justice 
was done to it is evident. 

The evening was given over to amusements of various 
sorts, in which the older members of the family vied with 
the younger in a merry chase for pleasure, the visitors 
joining in the frolic with light hearts and keen sense of 
enjoyment. Games of every description were played, prom- 
inent among these being "blind man's buff" and "My ship 
conies home from India." If they had rejected the festival 
of Christmas as a "relic of popery," they entered into the 
enjoyment of Thanksgiving with as much or more of zest 
than do we of to-day. An institution of their own, it was 
natural they should. 

Among the most popular games was the innocent 
pastime, "Think and Thank." The log fire on the hearth 
was made to burn brightly, the candle was removed so the 



262 OLDTIME SKETCHES 

only light that discovered the occupants of the room was the 
flames that filled the center with a brilliancy outrivalling 
the electric orb, while driving back into the corners the 
hosts of darkness that would not be vanished. A pile of 
small, dry twigs had been laid at one side, and it was 
expected that those present, one by one, should take one of 
these and lay it on the fire. Then, while it burned merrily, 
he or she was to think and say something to make another 
happy. 

One after another of the interested company had done 
this, to the great pleasure and happiness of their friends, 
when it came Aunt Jenny's turn. I think even the older 
members of the company had looked forward with keen 
interest to what she might say. It was generally known 
that she had lived an "old maid" from choice, rejecting a 
favored suitor that she might minister to the wants of her 
father in his declining years. Left poor at his decease, she 
had suffered many deprivations, but had always borne her 
hard lot with a light heart. Now, as she stepped forward 
and laid a pine bough upon the fire, not a sound broke upon 
the crackling of the fire. Lifting her honest, rugged face, 
which had been once beautiful and which was beautiful still 
in its holy peacefulness, she murmured softly the words 
that I shall never forget. "Rest and reward await the 
faithful." There was not a dry eye in the room when she 
returned to her chair, and we children did not speak for 
several minutes. 

The genial, whole-souled Hezekiah Butterworth, whom 
it was my good fortune to know, used to relate that the 
happiest Thanksgiving came to him when he was a boy, 
and at a "Think Thank Party." But let him tell it in his 
own inimitable way: 

"I well recall that night. The sleigh bells in the white 
road, the frost on the windows, the swallows' nest that fell 
down into the chimney flue of the keeping room after the 
building of an extra fire there. One by one those present 
had laid his thank offering on the coals, until it came 



1 




OLD FIREPLACE 


















THANKSGIVING DINNER 



RECOLLECTIONS OF THANKSGIVING DAY 263 

father's turn. He had not said very much that evening, 
and I wondered, in my boyish curiosity, what he would say. 
And when he took up a short twig of pine needles and cast 
it into the fire we hardly dared to breathe, while his low, 
slowly spoken words fell like a benediction upon the 
company : 

" 'I would mortgage my farm to give my boy here an 
education.' 

''This unexpected declaration came to me like an 
inspiration, impelling me to accomplish what I had not 
dreamed of before. If father was as anxious for me as 
that, surely I ought to give my best endeavor to get alone 
what he was so willing to get me at a sacrifice of home. 

"There are days that live again, and words that live on 
and on. These did, and while I worked and struggled in 
the distant city, I could hear a voice each recurring Thanks- 
giving, saying: 'I would mortgage my farm for you.' 

"Then there came a day when the brother wrote me 
that father was getting old and feeble, the crops had failed, 
and he was about to mortgage the farm to save himself 
from want during the coming winter. In a moment these 
sacred words came back to me, 'I would mortgage my farm 
for you.' While I had not made money abundantly, I had 
earned more than the old folk at home. It was the day 
before Thanksgiving, and without loss of time I hastened 
homeward, and never did the old elms that had sheltered 
the family rooftree for a hundred years beckon to me more 
kindly. At my suggestion the following evening we played 
the same game that we had played years before, and when 
I took a pine cone and cast it into the fire I said : This is 
a sacred gathering, and while I live the old farm shall never 
pass under mortgage. "Think and Thank.'" 

"No Thanksgiving ever gave me so much pleasure as 
that when I was able to say those homely words. That 
was my happiest Thanksgiving." 

My own recollections of Thanksgiving reach back to 
an early period in my life. Father never allowed the day 



264 OLDTIME SKETCHES 

to pass without inviting in- relatives and friends to enjoy 
with us the dinner and social hour. One of the choicest 
chickens or turkeys of his flock was selected for the table 
and the festival was always voted, by those at least who par- 
ticipated in it, a success. Among other invited guests were 
usually a couple who lived nearby in an old-fashioned, 
weather-beaten house that stood upon a high eminence over- 
looking a wide expanse of country. They were brother 
and sister, known as ''Uncle Jeems" and "Aunt Jenny." 
They were great favorites with all children, as no Thanks- 
giving would have been called a success with us without 
their presence. 

In those days, as I look back upon them, it seems to me 
Thanksgiving was usually ushered in with a big snowstorm. 
At any rate the one I have in mind was, and Thursday 
morning found the roads blocked with snow. Our counte- 
nances fell, for we felt there would be no company that day, 
and what would a Thanksgiving dinner be without its 
guests. But father, who had returned from his annual visit 
to Boston with his load of poultry late the night before, 
appeared hopeful so we gained courage. Of course the 
roads must be broken out, so early in the forenoon the oxen, 
three yoke, were hitched up, and not only the working team 
but as many pairs of steers were pressed into the service, 
acting as if they enjoyed the fun as much as their young 
drivers. Here I am reminded of the great change that 
has taken place in that same district, where then, all told, 
as many as thirty yoke of oxen and steers were mustered 
to break out the roads, to-day there are not more than two 
or three pairs. The old barn that contributed on that 
Thanksgiving turnout its six yoke does not house a single 
creature now. 

I have not the space to describe the wild sport, as it 
seemed to us boys, that followed, though I hope to devote 
an article to breaking out a country road sometime. Suf- 
fice it for this description to say that the work was well 
done, so the belated Thanksgiving guests could get to their 



RECOLLECTIONS OF THANKSGIVING DAY 265 

destinations in season for the waiting dinner. 

It had been planned for Uncle Jeems and Aunt Jenny 
to ride down to our house on the ox-sled, as the team came 
back past their house. The first was not only a large man 
and very clumsy, but a weakness in one of his knees made 
it difficult for him to walk, even when there was no snow 
in the path. He stood in the doorway of his humble home 
as we came back, waiting for us and his anticipated ride. 
Aunt Jenny had taken extra pains with his toilet this morn- 
ing, and he had on his heavy "top coat," an old-fashioned 
garment whose long skirts reached almost to the floor. 

Now within sight of home it was hard to keep the oxen 
quiet, to say nothing of the half- wild steers, while Uncle 
Jeems was helped upon the sled. But both he and Aunt 
Jenny were thought to be safely seated, and the word to 
start was given, when the team made a dash down the hill, 
threatening to get away from the drivers. 

Somehow the abrupt start caused Uncle Jeems to lose 
his balance, and he rolled over the rear end of the sled into 
the snow. Aunt Jenny screamed and he uttered a husky 
cry of distress, though their cries were unheeded by the 
teamsters, who had more than they could attend to suc- 
cessfully. As Uncle Jeems rolled like a big log into the 
snow path a chain hanging to the sled caught in his stout 
coat, and instead of being left behind he was drawn at a 
furious rate after the moving sled. 

"Help! h-e-l-p!" screamed Aunt Jenny, "Jeems can't 
get away!" 

Somebody laughed, for it was a ridiculous sight in spite 
of the seriousness of the situation. Frequently a log was 
fastened across the rear end of the sled to smooth down 
the snow, and now we had a living one instead. Smothered 
cries came from Uncle Jeems, who didn't so much as kick. 
Perhaps he had been killed. Those who saw him must have 
feared this, for in a moment a tremendous outcry went up, 
but the teamsters were either powerless to respond or else 
they misunderstood its meaning, for that team did not come 



266 BILL smith's whopper 

to a standstill until we were in front of the house. Then, 
the cattle purring and steaming like living engines, a rush 
was made to rescue Uncle Jeems. 

It seemed a long time before he was finally freed and 
lifted to his feet, where he stood like a huge snow man, 
trembling from head to foot. Aunt Jenny began to brush 
the snow from him, and the men helped him into the house, 
when it was found that he had not suffered any serious 
injuries. In fact, within five minutes he was laughing as 
heartily as the rest of us over his adventure, and he 
declared that he "must have made a cur' us good log for 
rolling the road." 

As we have remarked, the Puritanic spirit of Thanks- 
giving in a measure has slipped away from us. Old Home 
Day has become, to a considerable extent, a rival for its 
homely joys. But if our dinners are not as elaborate as 
that genuine old-fashioned dinner of our grandmothers 
and grandfathers, if we do not repair with so much earnest 
decorum to the house of God's worship, deep in our hearts 
should burn yet the fire of that sweet sentiment which 
breathed so fervently of home love and fireside reunion of 
separated lives. The spirit of that grand old festival 
inaugurated at the birth of our country should remain the 
same gracious power as long as this fair nation shall last. 



2ftU ^mttfj'si popper 

By Nixon Waterman 

I never heard no one deny 

That old Bill Smith knows how to lie. 

Of all the men I ever saw 

He wags about the smoothest jaw 

For tellin' stories. Tisn't hard 

For Bill to spin 'em by the yard. 

He starts his tongue a-goin' and 

Just rattles on to beat the band. 




il\ivl . «j ^^fkrf-'tffiF.^ • /' A •.ill- .1 !'/,f .' 1 



1 BSs:fcVJ*^k a 









? -~\ Mv.VvV'4 

4 'I ' "' 



1 ^ 




bill smith's whopper 267 

Remember one day, three or four 
Of us was down to Slocum's store 
A-braggin' of the shootin' we 
Had done, when Bill he says, says he, 
**One time, 'twas years and years ago 
When pigeons was so thick, you know, 
I made a shot so big, I swow, 
I'm 'fraid to tell it even now ! 

**But, any way, 'twas in the fall 
And near my house Fd built a tall, 
Round stack of oats on which had lit 
Wild pigeons till they covered it 
From top to bottom just that thick 
There really wasn't room to stick 
A pin between 'em ! There they set 
So saucy-like, and et and et. 

**I took my rifle down and just 
Poured powder in her till she'd bu'st 
I feared ! And then rammed down a ball 
And then contrived, somehow, to crawl 
Behind a fence that wound about 
Right up to that there stack without 
Their seein', when there came to me 
A sort of brain- wave, you'll agree. 

"I knew the way them pigeons set 
• That, do my best, I couldn't get 

More than a dozen at a shot, 

Which seemed a pesky little lot 

But when that brain-wave that was sent 

From somewhere reached me, I just bent 

That rifle-barrel right 'round my knee 

Till it was half a circle, see ? 

«*Well, when I fired her off I found 

That ball had gone right 'round and 'round 

That stack and killed of pigeons fine 

Just plumb nine hundred and ninety-nine!" 
"Make it a thousand, Bill," we said 

But Bill he slowly shook his head — 
"No, I won't tell a lie," said he; 
"For just one pigeon, no sirree !" 

— New England Magazine. 



<3Dfje ^abotos Mm JfoHoto 

A Plain Tale of Plain People, Some of Whom You May Have 
Known, All of Whom Lived a Third of a Century Ago 

By George Waldo Browne 

[Copyright, 1906, by the Author] 

What shadows we are and what shadows we pursue I — Burke. 



CHAPTER VI 

A STRANGER AMONG FRIENDS 

Yes, Hawkins an' me run the law in this town, 
When folks can't conclude to agree, 

When one's up a stump an' he wants to get down, 
He calls upon Hawkins or me. 

—Hall. 



*tf* 



f^Mt LMOST before they were aware of their isolation 
wfclg the two wayfarers found themselves quite alone. 
7^5-^ The majority of the crowd had started for their 
respective homes, while the balance had followed 
the horse jockeys to the little hamlet half a mile to the 
east. Abe Goodwill was driving leisurely homeward, old 
Bet being allowed to take her own pace. 

"By jove!" exclaimed Quiver, "the mob has rolled 
away like the waves upon a seashore:" 

"And left us like the pebbles that any chance comer 
may spurn with his foot. But the foot that tramples upon 
the pebble makes it turn, and we will yet turn, and the day 

268 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 269 

will come when they come to us rather than leave us 
unnoticed." 

"Whither shall we wend our weary way, professor? 
Did you notice that illiteration ? Will we follow the crowd ? 
I noticed the man who bought the widow's farm asked to 
stay with the squire." 

"We shall stay as his invited guests. But look! There 
she is in the doorway. To me she never looked more 
beautiful. Wait here a moment, Leonard, I am going to 
risk all by speaking to her. It is right I should." 

Without waiting for a reply, if one was needed, the 
prodigal advanced with hasty steps toward the cottage, 
which now bore a decidedly lonely appearance after the 
recent gathering there. Mary Temple, with feelings of 
mingled sadness and joy, had left her work to look after 
the departing crowd, her mother standing just behind her. 
The buyer of their home had paid five hundred dollars as a 
guaranty of good faith in the trade, and Squire New- 
begin was to make out the deed and receive the balance of 
the money that evening. Reuben Rover, as he slowly 
advanced, feeling a hesitation and yet an impatient longing 
to meet her, imagined that a look of regret if not of sad- 
ness overshadowed her features. 

"I wonder if she will recognize me," he thought. "Is 
it possible that twenty years have so changed me that my 
best friends fail to remember the harum-scarum youth of 
the years gone by? I do not believe the old man recognized 
me, though I tried my best to catch his eye. There may 
have — ha! she sees me! The die is cast." 

Mary Temple had indeed caught sight of the stranger 
approaching the house and instantly her attention was 
turned toward him. She saw he was the man who had been 
one of the bidders for the place. That very fact for a 
moment gave her reason to think bitterly of him, and she 
was about to re-enter the house, when he called to her in an 
anxious tone : 

"Mary — stop! don't you see, it is Free Newbegin? 



270 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

I have come home after all these years." 

The voice, perhaps, more than the words caused her to 
stop in her sudden retreat. Turning toward him again she 
fixed a swift, piercing gaze upon him. Then, with a glad 
cry upon her lips, while a wave of joy swept over her care- 
worn countenance, she sprang forward, crying ; 

"Oh, Free ! At last ! Where have you been all these 
long, anxious years ?" 

His outstretched arms closed about her, and while he 
held her close to his bosom, he said : 

"A wanderer, Mary, but never forgetful of you. I — " 

Suddenly, without warning, she broke away from his 
embrace, crying in a tone of distress : 

"Oh, Free! I forgot. Let me go. This cannot be. 
They said that you were dead." 

"But the fact that I am here, Mary, is proof that I am 
alive. You are glad to see me?" 

"I do not — I — oh, Free, you do not know what this 
means — to me !" 

"I know that I have never forgotten you, and that — " 

"Say no more, Mr. Newbegin — if you are he. / am 
the wife of another!" 

"I do not understand it, Mary. I love — " 

"Stop, sir! You have no right to say that to me. 
Besides I am not certain you are Freeland Newbegin. It 
cannot be, for his body was brought home and is buried in 
the yard where his mother sleeps beside him." 

"There is some mistake, Mary. A moment ago you 
recognized me, but now you deny me. Is it possible I have 
changed so much within a few moments ?" 

If she resented his words her manner did not show it, 
but rather grief, as she said lowly : 

"I do not understand it all. I must think that you are 
dead. No one recognized you at the auction, and you were 
present. It was you who made that speculator pay so much 
for our homestead." 

"I did it for your sake, Mary." 



K 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 271 

"You were kind to do it. You will be more kind to 
leave mother and me in peace now. Forgive me if I have 
given you cause for complaint, but we cannot be other than 
strangers." 

"So I am a stranger among friends," he said. "You 
will tell me if you are going away?" 

"I do not mind telling you that it is probable that 
mother and I shall remain here. Mr. Bowman, who has 
bought the place, says he will be glad to have us. Squire 
Newbegin has said, and others have agreed to it, that we 
can have many of our things back by paying the price at 
which they were bid off. Our neighbors are very kind, and 
this is our old home, you know. There comes my husband 
— go. go, whoever you are, and never seek me again." 

Reuben Rover or Freeland Newbegin, if that were his 
name, was never more nonplused in his adventurous life. 
His abrupt dismissal by her from whom he had fondly antici- 
pated a different reception was so unexpected that he did not 
know whither to turn. At that moment he discovered a man 
coming up the road with the slow, uncertain step of one 
under the influence of liquor. 

"Her husband," he thought, and without another word 
to her he rejoined his waiting companion, saying simply: 

"We will go on to the village. I am going to beard 
the lion in his den now." 

Though Leonard Quiver could see that his companion 
was laboring under great mental suppression, his silence 
could not long hold in check his irrepressible nature, and 
he declared as they moved along the dusty road : 

"Keeping still does not keep me from getting hungry, 
old man. I must eat. I am as lank as a grayhound that 
has run a three days' race and lost his game." 

"Can't you believe in me a little longer? Inside of 
twenty-four hours you shall be gorged and stuffed like a fat 
pullet intended for the oven." 

"And, like the chicken, dead !" declared Quiver with a 
grimace. 



272 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

"How long has it been since you have turned prophet? 
If you have lost confidence in me you might as well throw 
yourself on the town and get a good square meal along with 
Old Hungerford and the others. As for me, I never felt so 
hopeful, and I seem to see before me the grandest triumph 
of my life. If no one is bound to recognize me, I see no 
stumbling block in our way, unless it is your own lack of 
faith." 

/'The fault isn't in me. Got faith enough to move a 
mountain — of food. The trouble with me is I have an over- 
powering hunger." 

"Not many days hence you will see every inhabitant 
of this old town on his knees at our feet, and we shall be 
feasting on the fat of the land." 

Discussing their hopes and fears, the two soon came in 
sight of the village, finding now a row of houses, standing 
at irregular distances, on the left hand, while on the other 
opened the village green known as the Flatiron. The 
houses were mostly of one story, and the majority showed 
need of repairs and paint. The street was wide and level, 
and what looked like a sheep's path ran along on the side 
next to the dwellings, which the pedestrians followed. 

"Houses grow old as well as men," said Rover, who 
was noting closely every feature of the scene once so 
familiar to him. "Not many houses long outlive their 
owners. A few become centenarians, like an occasional 
occupant, but the majority fall younger. I miss a few, 
about the same number as I do of the inhabitants. Ha! 
here is the old Newbegin store, an exception to what I have 
said. It has not changed much. Been painted since I 
went away. It was red then. It tries to be white now but, 
like a man's inner selfishness, the red will show through 
the white coating." 

Quiver saw an ancient looking building of two stories, 
standing end toward the road, with a wide door in the mid- 
dle and a window on each side. A broad piazza ran the 
entire width of the building, supported by four massive 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 273 

wooden pillars, sadly hacked and hewn by thoughtless 
loiterers. Twenty or more horses were hitched at posts 
and fence rails about the sides of the yard, their owners 
standing or sitting in knots and groups wherever their 
fancies seem to dictate. Life Story was just ahead of our 
twain as they stepped upon the piazza, unchallenged by any 
one, but the object of many pairs of eyes. 

"Hand me out a pound of pork, Squire Newbegin," 
requested Life, as he entered the store. 

"Pork enough, squire, pork enough, but I want some- 
thing to fry mine in. Fact and quoth he, sir, what is is, an' 
it can't be argified." 

"Say, Life, greeted the squire, "when are you going to 
bring me in that bushel of turnips ?" 

"Fact an' quoth he, sir," drawing himself up and look- 
ing around as if he held the girdle of the world and was 
about to tighten the tension, "I have concluded not to bring 
them in yet." 

"Not bring them in? I have depended on them, Life, 
and it's going to disappoint me." 

"Sorry, squire, but I do not feel it my duty to make 
such a sacrifice at my time in life." 

"Sacrifice ? I do not understand you." 

"Perfectly natural, squire, seein' you air buyin'. But 
the fact is the price of turnips is unsettled. I was readin' 
only yesterday in my Trybune that there is a turrible 
drought out in Injy, and as how folks air starving to death 
by the cart-load. I read, too, that th' Imperator of Egypt is 
talking of startin' a war to exterminate a hull country of 
people; an' then, there's a big fire in London, I says to 
Nancy, with 'em prospects I ain't goin' to let the squire hev 
my turnips fer a song. No, sirree, with a famine in Injy, a 
war in Egypt, an' London on fire, th' price of turnips is 
bound to kite up. Fact an' quoth he, sir, what is is an' it 
can't be argified." 

"All right, Life, only look out they don't get frost bit 
before you pull them." 



274 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

"The folks can't afford to have us quarrel, squire, so I 
shall let your remark pass. The fact is," he continued, 
turning toward the spectators, looking especially at the 
strangers, "the squire an' I pay the most tax of any two 
men in town. Any dispute or trouble is alwus brought to 
us for settlement, and we alwus bring 'em out slick as 
peeled hemlock, even if it is necessary for the squire to 
take one side and I th' other." 

A faint cheer greeted these words of Life's for if what 
he had said was true in regard to the taxes it was because 
Squire Newbegin alone paid more taxes than any two men 
in Foxcraft, so that Life, with his mite added, was perfectly 
safe in making his statement. But the attention of the 
crowd was arrested at this juncture by the appearance of 
Mr. Johnson, who had kept in close consultation with Jock 
Jenness for several minutes. The prodigal improved this 
opportunity to speak with Squire Newbegin, saying, as he 
advanced with outstretched hand: 

"I have come home for your paternal forgiveness and, 
though I do not expect the fatted calf to be killed, as it 
was for the Biblical prodigal, I trust I shall be received 
with open arms. I have been gone overlong, but I will 
confess I am glad to get back again." 

For a moment he had shown an inclination to speak 
and had stepped forward in readiness to clasp his extended 
hand, but before Reuben Rover had finished his speech 
the squire suddenly stopped and, retreating, said : 

"Sir, I do not understand you. I do not recognize 
you." 

"Twenty years do make a great change, father, but if 
you look closer you will see that I am your son Freeland, 
who left the old home so long ago. Time has changed me 
more than it has you," he continued, seeing that the latter 
still hesitated, "but I hope it has not changed me beyond 
a degree of your forgiveness. I was only a foolish boy 
then." 

"Nothing that you say and nothing in your looks war- 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 275 

rant me in thinking that you speak the truth," replied 
Squire Newbegin, with an inflection of doubt in his voice 
stronger than was implied by his word. This coupled with 
the expressed denial touched the impetuous nature of the 
prodigal, and he exclaimed hotly: 

"So you deny me, father?" 

"I deny most positively that you are a son of mine," 
was the equally prompt retort, and the speaker was about 
to turn away when Reuben Rover hastened to say : 

"I see you have not forgotten the injustice of your old 
ways. But, as true as there is a power for justice, you 
shall live to eat those words. Ay, the time shall come when 
you will be glad to recognize me as your son; when you 
shall get down on your knees to me, and I, not you, shall 
be the arbiter of fortune. Remember that you shall hear 
from me again, and in a way that you will not forget.'' 

With these passionate words Reuben Rover wheeled 
about and strode out of the store, followed by every eye, 
Squire Newbegin possibly the calmest of those present. 

Leonard Quiver lost no time in keeping company with 
his friend in that hasty retreat from the country store, but 
neither spoke until they had gone several rods up the road, 
when the former ventured to say : 

"Whither now, old chum ? You know I am with you 
even if every one else is against you." 

"Thank you, Len, old boy, I know you are true. 
You have proved it a hundred times. So the governor 
chooses to declare war. I had hoped it might be different, 
for I bore him no malice. But it is different now." 

"He may relent before morning," ventured Quiver. 

"You say that because you do not know a Newbegin. 
He never will until I have broken his iron will. I will do 
that. Fortunately I hold in my hands the rod that can 
smite him. I will strike hard, too. But I do not think we 
can do better than to get a night's rest before we open fire 
on the enemy. Sleep is the lever of the world." 

"If you only have a good supper to rest it upon," 






• . . »• 



276 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

added Quiver, significantly. 

"I am not sure how good a supper we shall get at 
Deacon Goodwill's unless he has changed from his old 
ways," replied Rover, "but it is our only chance now, and 
I am the last person to condemn the bridge that is to carry 
me over the stream. Come on and I will see if I have for- 
gotten the road." 

In silence the prodigal led the way back over the same 
course they had followed in going to Squire Newbegin's 
store, until reaching and passing the scene of the auction 
of a few hours before. Soon after leaving this place they 
kept along a thinly settled district known in local geography 
as the 4 ' North Road,' r Reuben Rover still carrying under his 
arm the little hair trunk. The road was bordered by an 
embankment on the left, at the foot of which flowed a 
small stream. Peering through the fringe of bushes into 
the ravine, he was somewhat surprised to discover a man 
sitting on the ground and rubbing his head as if he had 
been abruptly awakened from sleep. 

This was literally the case, and had he been a few min- 
utes earlier he would have seen, stretched v at full length 
under the cooling shade of a clump of birches, the form of 
a man of large frame, well-stocked limbs, a broad, unshaven 
cheek and massive chin, asleep. In his better days, when 
he had no doubt aspired to the true dignity of manhood, he 
may have been passably good-looking, though the evidence 
of this could not be called more than circumstantial. As 
he slept the tension of his features relaxed, and a pleasant 
expression stole over them in place of the habitual scowl 
which seemed to speak of an aching heart. No doubt he 
was dreaming of the free and happy days so long a memory. 
In the midst of this transitory happiness a fly alighted upon 
his nose, which caused him to move involuntarily. In doing 
this he started from his primitive couch on the brink of the 
bank and rolled down its incline, stopping only when he 
had reached its bottom by coming in contact with a rock. 
Awakened thus rudely from his pleasant reminiscences, he 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 277 

lifted his head and, looking around in a bewildered way, 
muttered : 

"Wull, I had no idee th' bed was so narrer. An' here's 
a feller stickin' his toe inter me as if I wus a toad," giving 
the rock which had really saved him from a ducking in the 
stream a kick that dislodged it and sent it into the water 
with a splash. 

"It's Old Hungerford!" whispered Quiver. 

"Are you hurt much?" asked Reuben Rover, seeing 
that the aged man rose to his feet with some difficulty. 

"Huh?" he demanded, as if displeased at the appear- 
ance of the couple. "Mighty cur'us an' disrespectful if a 
feller can't snooze on his own bed without prying strangers 
peekin' at him. Say, mister, ain't a gentleman got no priv- 
ileges in this country?" 

"I hope you will excuse us for breaking in upon the 
privacy of your room," said Reuben with mock gravity. 
"But we could not help it very well, seeing our footsteps 
led us this way. How far is it to Deacon Goodwill's 
house?" 

"Goin' up to th' deacon's?" 

"Yes, or I should not have asked that question." 

"I see. Want to stop with him over night?" 

"We may conclude to do so." 

"Why didn't ye hunt up one of t'other selectmen?" 

"Why?" allowing the other's impression that they 
were dependent on charity to pass undisputed. 

" 'Cos they set er better table. Deacon's too stingy 
for a gentleman to set at his table. Not but Mrs. Goodwill 
is er good cook, only g'in her sumthin' to cook. Deacon 
won't furnish meat enough for a dog to starve on. I'm 
goin' to get erway as soon as I can fix up matters and 
things." 

"So you board there ?" 

"Fer er time. An' ef ye air bound to go come erlong 
with me an' I'll warrant ye wont get lost ; that is, if yer 
don't get to goin' too fast. As long as a man goes slow 



278 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

he's safe; but he never knows where he 's goin to land once 
he gets to pushin' hisself. It's like runnin' down er 
mount'in side then. Get started an' there's no breechin' 
can stop ye without a tumble. An' a man who's tumbled 
might as well keep down as try to get up." 

"I am afraid you are a pessimist," said Rover, lending 
his hand to help the old man over the brink of the descent 
into the road, 

"I don't know what ye mean by that, but ye air th' 
feller that bought the hair chist that would have been mine 
ef ye hadn't got it," noticing the little trunk Rover was 
still carrying under his arm. "Reckon 'tain't any great 
shucks. I jess bid to help out th' widder. Say, weren't it 
s'prisin' how low th' farm went ? An' ye bid on thet, too, 
S'pose I might with jess as good grace. What made ye 
stop when ye did ?" 

"Didn't care to go any higher." 

"Got to th' eend of yer ladder, perhaps. But that air 
Jones is goin' to scoop a bucketful. But th' Joneses were 
alwus lucky." 

"What makes you think the property worth so 
much?" 

"I can tell ye in er whisper. It's gold — gold — gold ! 
It's what makes th' \yorld spin — makes th' sun shine — let's 
hump it — makes th' bell of glory ring! To think on't, that 
my old place is right in the range. Life Story said so, an' 
I know it. If I'd only knowed enough to hev hild on't I 
might hev been rollin' in gold an' er larfm at th' crumbs 
swept up by the stingy old deacon. Ah, mister, the poor 
are the pillars of the people, upon which rich men build 
their palaces of power." . 

"By jove!" exclaimed Quiver, 'you may be a pessimist 
but you are a poet." 

"I take it you have seen better days, Mr. Hungerford." 

"Better in one shape, mister, but I weren't as wise as 
I am now. But, gracious Lord, I'd ruther hev money 'n 
wisdom. It helps ye er lot more." 




THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 279 

CHAPTER VII 

DEACON GOODWILL 

In men whom men condemn as ill 
I find so much of goodness still ; 

In men whom men pronounce divine 
I find so much of sin and blot 

I hesitate to draw the line 
Between the two, where God has not. 

— Miller. 

HY in the world doesn't that boy come? Here 
he's been gone nearly four hours, and he should 
have been back in two." 

From the scene of the auction, at the very time when 
its excitement was at fever height, the place of action 
changes to a country dwelling a little over two miles from 
Sunset village. The speaker was Deacon Goodwill, whom 
we met at the office of the selectmen, he having gone 
directly home. He was addressing his wife at this time, 
while referring to his oldest son Abraham, more frequently 
called "Abe." 

"Oh, he hasn't been gone four hours, pa," replied Mrs. 
Goodwill, looking up at the clock and then down the road 
with an anxious feeling at her heart, which she was trying 
to conceal from her stern, fault-finding husband. 

"Wa'al, he should hev been back an hour ago, no mar- 
ter when he got started. Them beans must be pulled an', 
tied up 's I am with th' rheumatiz, he an' Enoch must do 
et. I ought'r be in bed this blessed minnit, 'stead of havin' 
to worrit about that graceless scamp, who seems bound an' 
detarmined to worrit th' life out 'n me. Boys ain' got th' 
work in 'em they had when I wus a boy — leastways mine 
ain't. All that Abraham thinks of is gettin' out 'n my 
sight, an it may be steal a canter on th' old mare. I'll kill 
her this very week, see ef I don't, an' stop sich foolishness. 
Et's a burnin' disgrace to my good name," and striking at 



280 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

an imaginary fly on his nose, he crossed the floor to look 
out of a window in the hope of seeing his son. 

"I don't see how you can get along without her, 
Timothy." 

"Hire, Mariah ; et 'd be cheaper'n feedin' that rack o' 
bones." 

"But she cost you twentv-nve dollars, an' it seems a 
pity-" 

"Th' more fool I wus to listen to that gipsy. But I 
should never hev bought her but Squire Newbegin said she 
wus cheap at that money. I ought'r knowed better 'n 
look to th' unregenerate squire for advice. But then he 
said he'd take her off' n my hands ef I sickened o' my 
trade." 

"Then why not let the squire hev her?" she asked with 
brightening countenance. 

"Huh, woman ! let him know I got beat, besides giv- 
ing him a chance to make sumthin' on my poor trade, 's ef 
he has not wrung people enough dry now." 

"There he comes, dad !" piped up a childish voice at one 
of the windows. "There comes Abe." 

Deacon Goodwill's farm-house stood on what was 
known as the "North Road," and at the summit of one of 
the foothills of Rainbow Mountain, so that he could look 
across the valley to the Beetle Hill road on the east, though 
it must have been good eyesight that could have distin- 
guished the team that had appeared on the distant hill-top. 

"He'll soon be home, ' said the anxious mother, with a 
feeling of relief. 

"To think that a boy o' mine should prove sich a dis- 
grace to me, an honored, respected pillar o' th' church, who 
has lived a God-fearin' life for fifty years," he groaned in 
his agony. Lifting his head in a moment, as if a relieving 
thonght had come to him, he resumed : 

"He never took it from me. He's jess like your 
brother Dick. By the way, I should like to hev you tell me 
whut ever become o' thet scapegrace. He disappeared from 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 281 

these parts more'n twenty years ago. He always thought 
more o' a fast hoss than he did o' a good dinner. Isn't et 
about time fer him to turn up?" 

Let it be said to his credit that Deacon Goodwill did 
not realize the cruelty of his words. He was sorry when 
he saw the tears fill her eyes at the memory he had unwit- 
tingly awakened, but he remained silent. 

"It was not all Dick's fault," she said. "If he ever 
does come back I shall welcome him with open arms. 
Father forgave him before he died, and he really never 
harmed any one but himself." 

The family relapsed into silence, little being said until 
at last Enoch discovered old Bet coming up the hill, Abe 
having alighted from the wagon and walking along behind. 
This was a common practice with Abe, who was very con- 
siderate of the creature he might be driving, but somehow 
on this occasion it bore a different impression than usual. 
Old Bet's sides were steaming with perspiration and, 
aroused by the sight, Deacon Goodwill, unable to leave the 
house, raised one of the windows and, thrusting his head 
and shoulders out into the open air, waited impatiently for 
Abe to get within speaking distance. If the approaching 
youth felt any trepidation at meeting his irate father, his 
youthful countenance bore a buoyant expression, and it 
was evident the triumph of his recent exploit was upper- 
most in his mind. He was the first to speak, as he 
shouted : 

"Hilloa, dad! I've got a bit of news. Old Bet—" 

"Abraham Goodwill, I'm astounded — dumfounded !" 
thundered his father. "I believe you've been racin' hosses," 
as if that was the extreme limit of wickedness. 

"Not exactly that, dad, but comin' down Broadway I 
had a little brush with a stranger who tried one of his smart 
dodges on me. He had a flyer, I know he did, but old Bet 
dropped him like a hot doughnut. Oh, Jerusalem, dad! 
she's an up-an'-get-outer. You've — " 

"Jess 's I told yer mother ; an to think a boy o' mine 



282 . THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

should be racin' hosses with a stranger, and above all on 
Broadway where th' hull town would be seem' to et." 

"Town's all to the auction, dad. I heard the Widow 
Temple's little place brought five thousand dollars ; bought 
by a stranger. Never see so many strangers in town in 
one day afore. Jerome Pitcher said so, too. The town's 
wild over the sale, and they do say gold has been found on 
the place, and that the man who bought it will get rich." 

"That don't answer my question, young man," said the 
deacon, looking severe. 

"'Bout my race on Broadway? I couldn't help it, dad. 
I was comin along at a slow trot when that stranger came 
down on me and tried to get past. I should have let him 
gone, but old Bet caught the bit an' straightened. Twenty 
men with the arms of old Irons couldn't have stopped her. 
Geewhilliker ! but didn't she spin? The stranger, an' his 
hoss ain't any slouch, couldn't — " 

"Et's purty carryings on when a boy o' Deacon Good- 
will comes to hoss racin'. I — " 

" 'Tweren't hoss racin' dad, like we hear about. What's 
a feller goin' to do when he can't help hisself ? 'Tweren't 
only week afore last you told of getting overhauled by Jock 
Jenness, an' how old Bet lent him her heels. How quick 
was it you come down from Tiptop ? I tell you the old mare 
has been trained not to let any one go by her. She's a 
trotter from the word go." 

It was evident from the following remark of his father 
that Abe's sly reminder was not without its effect. 

"You hev ruined her now, an' I'm as good as a hun- 
dred dollars out. Look out ! she's goin' to fall down," 

Abe had not only freed Bet from the wagon while 
speaking, but he was now removing the harness, so the 
animal might enjoy her liberty in the yard awhile. 

"Goin' to roll, dad, that's all. Always take the hoss 
.that rolls often. See! over she goes as slick as a whistle 
the first time. The hoss that rolls over is worth a hundred 
for each flop it makes afore it gets up. There she comes 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 283 

back ag'in! Is she goin' to get up now? No — three — back 
she comes — four — Jerusalem! don't she stick? Over she 
goes ag'in ! That makes five times. She's safe for a cool 
five hundred, dad ! 

Deacon Goodwill held up his hands in horror, saying : 

"Sich sinfulness is beyond my understandin', Abraham 
Goodwill. Do you march down an' pull 'em beans. Enoch, 
you put Bet in the barn as soon as she's had her fill 'o the 
grass." 

"All right, dad, but I must clean off Bet first. An' I 
want to tell you that Squire Newbegin, as I come through 
the holler, took me aside an' told me to look out for that 
stranger. 'He's Jock Jenness' man,' he says, 'an' Jock 
will fix him to buy old Bet. If your dad decides to sell her, 
I want th' first offer. You can tell him that I'm willin' to 
lay down a hundred dollars for her any day.' That means 
he'll give fifty or a hundred more," added the shrewd Abe. 

"Th' squire wus talkin' to amuse hisself. I know him 
o' old, an' so does th' hull town, fer thet marter, to et's 
sorrer. He an' Jock Jenness air et sword's p'ints over 
smoe trades. I b'lieve th' squire's one ahead, an' I s'pose 
he kinder dreads Jock. They're six an' half a dozen. I 
should hate to let my peace o' min' go fer jess a hoss trade. 
But you can trust me not to let Jock Jenness nor Aaron 
Newbegin pull the wool over my eyes, not thet I pride 
myself on sich ungodly things as go with a hoss trade," 
and with this parting speech the deacon pulled down the 
window and turned to impart to his wife the news that 
Squire Newbegin was willing to pay one hundred dollars for 
old Bet. 

"He'll give another quarter, Mariah, an' thet'll mean 
an even hundred fer my trade with th' gipsy. She's worth 
et, too, ef she don't look et. She's spry on her feet, an' 
she ain't so very old nuther." 

It will be seen that he had worn off the rough edge of 
his anger, and he talked quite exultantly of old Bet and her 
recent feat. During this time Abe worked upon the old 



284 LAKE SUNAPEE BY MOONLIGHT 

mare until her coat looked sleek and smooth as it had 
before the race. Patting her neck affectionately, as he fin- 
ished, Abe said softly : 

"There, old lady, that must do for this time. Dad 
may scold if he must, but we'll give 'em a surprise over to 
Coldbrook next month or I'm a back number an' your foot 
has lost ite cunning." 

(Begun in the July number; to be continued) 



Hake Jwnapee tip Jfl&oonligljt 

By Mary L. D. Ferris 

How beautiful the fair lake lay. 

Bathed in the soft moonlight, 
Mount Sunapee as sentinel, 

And Kearsarge full in sight. 

The fragrant pines, whose lullabies 

Had soothed her oft to rest, 
Were silent in their majesty 

Upon the mountains' crest. 

No piercing cry of startled loon 
Above the waters rose, 
, All nature seemed in harmony 

To give her sweet repose. 

The waters rippled softly 

And rested at their will, 
The stars were mirrored in the lake, 

And all the world was still. 

Ah, rare gem of New England lakes, 

Set in a granite crown, 
Let painter's brush and poet's pen 

Give thee thy just renown. 



Cfje Oftiitor'g t©mboto 



G. B. G. says the most ancient of all the games which 
are played in our time is probably the game of chess. The 
significance of the name is found in its French derivation, 
echec — a check. The origin of the game, according to the 
testimony of many who have investigated the matter, is to 
be traced to India. Dr. Duncan Forbes furnishes indis- 
putable testimony that the chess-board had its origin with 
the Hindus two or three thousand years before Christ. 
The game has been gradually evolved to its present form, 
and as it is now played dates back only to about the fif- 
teenth century of our era. The element of chance appears 
to have first entered into the mode of playing by the throw- 
ing of a die, and it was once played by four persons. Of 
course this feature no longer exists and it is now purely an 
intellectual game. As the names of its principal pieces 
(king, queen, knights and bishop) indicate, it has been a 
popular game in the past with the sovereigns of the differ- 
ent nations. The complications, or rather the combinations 
of the game, are infinite and they afford an opportunity for 
the exercise of the highest powers of the mind. Accord- 
ingly we have had prodigies from time to time who have 
amazed the world by their powers in this direction, prom- 
inent among them being Mr. Paul Morphy, who was able 
to play many games at one time, blindfolded, and win the 
most of them. Chess, of which checkers is a low variety, 
was originated to illustrate in a game the ordinary mode of 
warfare. The game as now played in China and Japan is 
much more complex than our own. 

285 



... 



. 



286 editor's window 



$}ott& anb Queries; 

8. When was the term Mr. first used among our fore- 
fathers, and what was its real signification ? 

Anon. 

9. What were the principal trades with the colonists? 

C. 

10. Was the hero of Cooper's "Spy" a real character? 
If so who was he? 

Historian. 

11. When and by whom was the first map of New 
Hampshire made ? 

One. 



5. In reply to "Student," What is meant by "Old" 
and "New Style" of reckoning time? 

At the time of the arrival of the first colonists in New 
England, the English people began the new year with the 
twenty-fifth day of March, Annunciation (or Lady's) Day, 
so that any date given Old Style between January 1 and 
March 25 should have one year added to correspond with our 
method of reckoning. Then a "corrected" form of dating 
the year began in March, 1649, O. S. The first time this 
was officially used in New England was in Connecticut, 
viz.: "this 25th day of March, 1649-50." This would be 
1650, according to our reckoning. This style prevailed 
until 1700, so that ten days should be added to the dates of 
all the months. Between 1700 and 1752 eleven days should 
be added to each date. In order to correct this inaccuracy 
the Parliament of Great Britain in 1752 made September 3 
the 14th, and we have followed this style ever since. 

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By Sam Walter Foss 



Mr. Foss needs no introduction to the readers of the Granite State 
Magazine. A native of Candia, his early years were passed in that town 
and Portsmouth. Later he became associated with a Boston literary 
paper of wide circulation and began to write those poems which have 
placed his name among our leading lyric composers. Often expressed in 
quaint, it may be homely, language, his productions find their lasting grace 
in the simple truth of their pictures. The following verses in his gentle, 
unobtrusive way touch upon a theme near to nature's heart. Spring has 
its lure, summer its beauty, autumn its harvest and winter the restfulness 
of them all. Nature, as well as man, must sleep and dream dreams of 
renewed a'ctivity, when the bud shall unfold its blossom and the hillside be 
made to yield its golden grain. The little brook under the snow, if lost 
to sight and memory for the time, sings in subdued notes the song it ever 
carries to the sea, and teaches to the human heart the cheer of a heart 
that beats responsive to the great purposes of life. — Editor. 



AY down in dad's oV medder, where the pussy 
willers grow, 
I used to go an* listen to the brook beneath the 
snow ; 
Above. I heerd the roarin' win* an' saw the snow-gust whirl ; 
But the brook beneath the snow an' ice danced singin' like a 
girl. 

I'd put my ear down to the ice, I didn' min' the col', 
An' w'en I heerd its music there wuz summer in my sou ! 
An' w'en dad licked me, an* my heart 'ud bile an' overflow, 
I would go an' hear the music of the brook beneath the snow. 

287 




THE BROOK BENEATH THE SNOW 289 

An! then my sobs 'ud change to shouts, an' sorrer change to 

glee, 
For it strewed along its music from the mountain to the sea; 
An* I'd stretch my ear to hear it, an' my heart 'ud swell an' 

glow, 
Wen I listened to the music of the brook beneath the snow. 

Since then the wintry blasts of life have blown me here an' 

there, 
An' snow-storms they have blocked my way an' hedged me 

everywhere; 
But sheltered from the hurricane, within the valley low,. 
1 listen for the music of the brook beneath the snow. 

For I know beneath the snow an' ice that there is golden 

sand, 
By that glorious streak uv melody that wiggles through the 

land; 
The storm beats hard; the wind is high; I cannot hear it 

blow, 
For I listen to the music of the brook beneath the snow. 




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X 







GEORGE B. LEIGHTON 



OBrantte ^tate ^aga?me 

Vol. II. DECEMBER, 1900. No. 6'. 



Prominent J$zto ifampsijtre J^en 

George B. Leighton 

By A Staff Contributor 



Jv^ttpI.GHTEEN years ago the past summer, a young 
'^frV man came to this state for rest and recreation. 
<s5&y He had just graduated from Harvard University. 
Now, being ready to begin life for himself, he 
instinctively turned to the Granite State, the home of his 
ancestors and the birthplace of his mother. He had been 
many times within the state but had never been so attracted 
by its beauties before, and ere the summer closed he had 
decided to make it his permanent home, had purchased a 
farm in the town of Dublin, and was one of the most 
enthusiastic lovers of the state. That young man was 
George B. Leighton, who, although his business activities 
have encompassed all parts of the country, still has a home 
in the state for all the year round. 

The Leightons came of old English ancestry and 
were among the earliest settlers around Old Strawberry 
Bank, now Portsmouth. 

A few years since it was a favorite expression that 
New Hampshire was a good state to emigrate from, and 
the men and women who went forth from its family tree 
found a warm welcome wherever they sought new homes. 
Ohio then attracted many of its most energetic citizens, 
and thither in the early part of the nineteenth century 

391 



392 



PROMINENT NEW HAMPSHIRE MEN 



Eliot Leighton, the grandfather of George B. Leighton, 
went to try his fortune in the new territory. He settled 
in Cincinnati, where he soon became a useful and prosper- 
ous citizen. 

His son, George Eliot Leighton, was born there but, like 
his father, looking westward to better his fortune, he went 
to St. Louis when a young man. There he met Miss 









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Pfel' fl 




VIEW FROM MONADNOCK FARMS 



Bridge, whose family had come from Walpole, N. H., and in 
due time he and Miss Bridge were united in marriage. He 
was a lawyer of extensive practice and a keen, influential 
business man. Bishop Niles of New Hampshire, who was 
brought into close relationship with him, says of him: 
"Too much cannot be said in praise of his character. His 
was the sweetest, sanest personality of any layman I ever 
knew. He was, too, one of ths greatest men St. Lonis 



GEORGE B. I.EIGHTON 



393 






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394 PROMINENT NEW HAMPSHIRE MEN 

ever had." Coming from such a source these words cannot 
be styled flattery, but the highest estimate of the genuine 
worth of the man. 

George B. Leighton, the subject of this sketch, was 
the son of this estimable couple. He was born in St. Louis 
forty-two years ago. He prepared for college in the west, 
but very naturally he sought a New England institution to 
round out his education. In the fall of 1884 he entered 
Harvard University, where he soon became not only a gen- 
eral favorite but a leader in his class. He was manager of 
the Daily Crimson and of class day. 

Upon his graduation from Harvard, as his father and 
grandfather had each done, he transferred his business 
allegiance another step westward, to Los Angeles, Cal. 
He was drawn to this place from the interests he had taken 
in western railroads, and his clear-sighted and vigorous 
policy soon secured him the office of president of the Los 
Angeles Terminal Railroad, a position he held for eight years, 
a period marked with such activity as falls to the lot of few 
men.' They were years which not only tried but formed 
the energetic character of the man and called forth all the 
latent energy he possessed. The success of Mr. Leighton's 
road depended largely upon harbor development and he 
prepared to accomplish his object, though he was directly 
opposed by a railroad magnate who had yet to feel the sting 
of a defeat. This rival was Collis P. Huntington of the 
Southern Pacific, and so intense became the struggle 
between the tw r o that the aims at issue w r ere three times 
laid before the United States senate, which brought Mr. 
Leighton into active association with that body. The 
result was a victory for him and Mr. Huntington was forced 
to retire from the field, vanquished for the first and onlv 
time in his career. In 1896 Linked States Senator William 
A. Clark of Montana purchased the Los Angeles Terminal 
and Mr. Leighton's assocition with it came to an end. 

This change left him free to enter upon a career of 
business activity in various lines, and called him into enter- 



T5E0RGE B. LETGHTON 395 

prises connected with several sections of the country but 
mainly in the east. As early as 18S8, as has already been 
■said, he had bought a tract of land in Dublin, which town 
he resolved should become his home. He now devoted 
•even more of his attention to this place. Adjoining lands 
were secured and from these purchases he evolved what has 
"became widely known as the "Monadnock Farms." With 
the acumen of a business man he entered upon his farming 
as few T men do, becoming popularly known among his 
neighbors as "'Farmer Lei^hton.^ 

The wornout lands which had come into his posses- 
sion were made to yield a substantial profit. As the 
name implies, the farmstead is plural, his possessions com- 
prising a series of five farms, amounting in the aggregate 
to over seventeen hundred acres. These farms come under 
separate management, and everything about them is in 
accord with modern methods of farming. A local paper, in 
commenting upon them, says: "The strong points of the 
farms are their perfect sanitary condition and cleanliness, 
the vigor and health of the herd, and the excellence and 
even quality of the milk and cream. These have combined 
to make it successful as a business enterprise. A farm 
such as that which Mr. Leighton carries on is not only a 
benefit to the town of Dublin, but to the country as well 
It serves as an object lesson to show that New Hampshire 
hill farms can be made productive and profitable." Mr. 
Leighton has not only shown what he could do as a farmer 
at home, but he has w r on encomiums abroad of which he is 
justly proud. The Paris Exposition of 1900 gave him a sil- 
ver medal for the general excellence of his exhibit there, 
the only international medal held by a New Hampshire 
farmer. He also obtained from the Chicago Exposition a 
bronze medal for the excellence of the display of products 
from his farms. He has also several awards for dairy 
exhibits from both in and out of the state. 

The characteristic snap and energy of Mr. Leighton is 
shown by the manner of the development of these run- 



396 



PROMINENT NEW HAMPSHIRE MEN 



down and abandoned Granite State homes, which a man of 
means had at his command. To avoid the delay and 
expense of drawing all of his freight to and from the regu- 
lar stations several miles away, he applied to the Boston & 
Maine Railroad for a track to his farms, and it was not very 









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long before the branch became a reality and has become an 
important factor in the business of the Harrisville station. 
To accommodate himself and assistants he petitioned to 
Washington for a post-office to be called "Monadnock," and 
this, like his railroad, has become a fixture. This office, 
which in the summer season has seven deliveries of mail 



. 









GEORGE B. LEIGHTON 



397 



daily, is one of the most picturesque and notable of the 
post-offices in the country. 

It has been a trait of Mr. Leighton's character to carry 
into whatever enlisted his sympathy and support the same 
energy and success that has marked his management of the 



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"Monadnock Farms." While never seeking an elective 
office, for many years he has been an earnest advocate of 
the parcels-post system. He is a firm supporter of the 
establishment of a White Mountain Forest Reserve, the 
better development and maintenance of the navy yard at 
Portsmouth, the development of the port of Boston for 



398 FROMTNENT NEW HAMPSHIRE MEN 

international trade, and the regulation of the public-service 
corporations. His wide experience with the business inter- 
ests of the country, extending as it does from New Hamp- 
shire to California, from farm life to railroad management, 
makes him a powerful ally or a dreaded enemy. His acute 
judgment and keen foresight is shown in his criticism of 
the public service of the Boston & Maine Railroad, which 
became an important factor in the recent reform campaign,, 
and which called forth not only an elaborate reply from 
President Tuttle r but bore fruit in certain changes and 
improvements which have been lately carried into effect. 

In politics Mr. Leighton has ever been a Republican,. 
and he is president of the Cheshire County Lincoln Club. 
He has never been a political self-seeker. He enjoys the 
high distinction of belonging to the Order of Cincinnati, his 
Portsmouth ancestors having been actively engaged in the 
War for American Independence. He was married in St. 
Louis to Miss Charlotte Kayser y of St. Louis, whose father^ 
Henry Kayser, belonged to the Carl Schurz type of Ger- 
mans and who came to this country in 1849. They have 
three sons, George Eliot, Henry K. and John Langdon r 
the two last named being twins. Mrs. Leighton is greatly- 
interested in the success of her husband, and their home 
is one of the pleasantest to be found in the Old Granite 
State, 





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Granite ^tate Ctooftreeg 

V 

The Waldron Mansion and an Oldtime Wedding 

By Lydia A. Stevens 

HyERY old houses are peopled with ghosts of men 
and women, and their hopes and ambitions, their 
triumphs and griefs glimmer out of dream pictures 
and awaken the beholder to a sentiment of mourn- 
fulness. 

The old boarding house, nearly opposite the court 
house on Second street, is such a building. The frame was 
raised in 1763. It was built to face what we call Franklin 
Square. In early days it had a portico and door in the 
middle front. This allowed admission to a rather more 
than average entrance hall. Fireplace and settles gave an 
air of hospitality to this part of the house. From this 
entrance hall doors led into spacious rooms on either side. 
At one hand was the dining-room ; at the other hand the 
living room. These rooms were almost continually thrown 
open and were bright and cheerful. The walls were painted 
above a white wainscot. The interior of the building 
approached the Colonial style, but in other respects only 
marked an improvement on the dwellings of people of lim- 
ited means and opportunities. 

Whatever the old house stood for at first, it is now an 
infliction and an evil. Some one turned it so as to face the 
south. Though it is one of our few pre-revolutionary 
•houses and linked to historical associations, it is difficult to 
believe that at the date of our story it was one of the 
largest and best-appointed dwellings in Dover. Its massive 
timbers, rudely fashioned from the trees of the ancient for- 

299 



300 GRANITE STATE ROOFTREES 

est, still hold the structure to some sort of endurance and 
convenience, but it is bent and distorted. When the west- 
ering sun glances on the battered and dingy clapboards and 
discolored roof, and reveals the foulness of the entrance, 
it seems well-nigh impossible to accept the accredited story. 
It has passed restoration. If it is hideous by day, the ugli- 
ness and decay are intensified at nightfall. The brightest 
moonlight only makes it more weather stained, time worn 
dark, cold and desolate. 

But the evidence is unassailable that in 1780 it was a 
stately mansion and sheltered one of the foremost families 
in Dover. The builder, owner and occupant, Thomas 
Westbrook Waldron, great-grandson of the old Major, slain 
in the massacre of 1689, made it a home of comfort and 
hospitality. He was captain in Col. Samuel Moore's New 
Hampshire regiment employed in the reduction of Louis- 
burg and the territories thereon depending. He began duty 
February 13, 1745, and was mustered out September 6 of 
the following year. For his whole term of military service 
he received thirty-two pounds, eighteen shillings and six- 
pence. 

Louisburg was the stronghold of the French at the 
eastward, from whence expeditions were fitted out against 
the colonists, and it was determined to take this fortress 
and thus deprive France of the key to her possessions in 
America. New Hampshire furnished for the expedition five 
hundred men, one-eighth part of the land forces employed 
upon the occasion. 

In after years Captain Waldron held many offices of 
trust and importance. He was elected selectman seven 
times, and served as town clerk from 1772 until his death, 
April 3, 1785. He possessed large means and lived well 
for his times. He held real estate in every nearby section, 
and was the owner of three slaves. His home showed 
thrift combined with a growing love of art and literature 
more, perhaps, than any other place in town. His books, 
surveying tools, watch and gun came from master hands in 



' 






THE WALDRON MANSION 301 

Europe. His furniture was designed by Theophilus Har- 
denbrook and constructed by Chipendale. He had a large 
number of children, boys and girls, but of the fourth, 
Elenor (Davis) Waldron, our tale has to do. She was edu- 
cated under the watchful eye of Master Timothy White, 
who kept school in the old Freeman house on Silver 
street. 

James Smith, a native of Durham but resident of 
Dover, was to marry Elenor. After the second service, the 
"round, oily man of God," Dr. Jeremy Belknap, walked 
over from his residence on Silver street. Though of 
medium stature, the Reverend Doctor had been a sturdy 
youth, but at this time, while not in the sere and yellow 
leaf, the great lumps of muscle had become soft and flaccid. 
Increasing years, inaction, good living and much study had 
produced the change. He had lost the faculty of striding, 
and picked his way carefully by aid of a cane. 

How the renowned theologian and sound historian 
unbent during that evening, and how tenderly he urged the 
young couple to walk with equal steps through life, has not 
come down to us. 

The stalwart groom was a striking specimen of man- 
hood. The bride was a variable, impulsive creature, one 
day happy and almost childishly merry, another cynical, the 
next perhaps grave and full of thought, but always piquant 
and never dull. These traits she inherited from her 
mother, whose great-grandfather was the moody farmer- 
fisherman of York Beach. 

'Twas Sunday, December 5, 1784. On the great un- 
stained, snow-clad slope that swept from the house to the 
Cochecho, the white surface dotted with ragged stumps, 
the westering sun lingered and glistened. On the wooded 
point west of the old high school house, recently called the 
grove, the trees stood like ermined kings. To the north 
and east were infrequent openings in the great forest. In 
the near front a thicket of black spruce turned slender 
spires to the sky. By the north and east great Cochecho 



302 GRANITE STATE ROOFTREES 

hill stood austere and lonely, the top mantled with gloomy 
conifers. The night came on. Overhead the stellar host 
burned. It was cold without, but very warm in the great 
house. The windows and opening doors glowed and flamed. 
Huge, cumbrous sleighs, vapor breath rising from riders 
and horses, dashed up to the front door. 

The air outside was a gossamer of glittering frost. In 
the low-posted but spacious southeast room hickory logs 
burned below a carved chimney piece. There was an iron 
hob and the andirons were iron. The hearth was paved 
with blue flag-stone. The mantel held Wedgewood black 
ware. Near one of the southerly windows stood a mahog- 
any desk with brass furnishings. A Hepplewhite bookcase 
filled a corner. It had serpentine curves, straight tapering 
legs and spade feet. A Scotch carpet, of plain and simple 
pattern, covered the floor. The hall was warmed by an 
open fire, into which, from time to time, the children threw 
resinous pine cones. Every room was lighted by greenish- 
white bayberry candles, making and rendering them fragrant 
being now a lost art. The antique candlesticks of beaten 
brass gleamed and glistened. 

From his great height the mighty groom looked down 
upon his chosen one. His step was not as steady as in the 
field and swamp, and the composure with which he threaded 
the intricacies of the forest failed him a little under the un- 
familiar conditions. But the grace of power, and the 
woman's guidance saved him from serious embarrassment. 
A tender look came into his bold blue eyes, and his hand 
ceased to tremble. She was dark and plain, but her laugh- 
ing eyes shone like summer seas, and were vibrant with the 
lure that made this strong man her own. He wore home- 
spun. Her gown was lilac silk, scant in skirt, short of 
waist, and defined by a broad belt of same. There was a 
low-neck effect, large puffed sleeves, and on her hands silk 
mitts. These articles, together with seven of the brass 
candlesticks, are still in existence. In one of Captain Wal- 
dron's note books are the names of the wedding guests. A 



YOU AND I 303 

part of the record is illegible, but I have made out the fol- 
lowing: "Major Titcomb, Dr. Green and Ensign Moses 
Hodgdon of Dover, with members of their families, Col. 
John Langdon and Col. James Hacket of Portsmouth, and 
Gen. John Sullivan of Durham." 

More than a century has passed. The old house 
mocks at decay, but all its grandeur has gone and the 
builder and owner sleeps soundly in the Methodist burying 
ground. 

And close by the old warrior rest groom and bride. 
They are now mythical personages. The guests at the 
wedding, the gentry of the surrounding country, all the old 
men, dames, maidens, youths, and the Revolutionary sol- 
diers and sailors, long years ago disappeared. 

Only the shabby house, the old, old story, told every- 
where from the Arctic to the Antarctic circle, a few remem- 
brances and keepsakes, and the lasting tradition of an old- 
time happy Dover wedding remain. 



gou anb 31 



Before man parted for this earthly strand, 
While yet upon the verge of heaven he stood, 

God gave a heap of letters in his hand 

And bade him make with them what word he could. 

— Matthew Arnold. 

Had I been there on that red-letter day, 

And God given me an alphabet to try, 
Two dozen letters I'd have thrown away, 

And spelled "life's happiness" with "U" and "I". 

1 — November Delineator. 



Cfje Wa?£ of tfje Wilb 

ii 

ByTHK Acthor of "The Woodranger Tales" 

The following incident relates to a small party of hunters, leaving 
their homes at Amoskeag in the fall of 1740 for a week's hunt in the 
vicinity of Pawtuckaway Mountains, and the chief spokesman was that 
frontier scout and trailer, -'The Woodranger." With him were the sons of 
"Old Archie" Stark, Robert Rogers and others.— Editor. 



ij3R| EAVING the Falls by the main road leading to the 

J'ly^ center of the Scotch-Irish settlement, they reached 
1§L the few scattered homes of those pioneers when 
the Woodranger plunged boldly into the primeval 
forest, stretching away in every direction farther than the 
eye could survey, mile on mile of wild wood, broken only 
here and there by some small clearing of an adventurous 
settler. Extending over such a vast area, the forests cov- 
ered mountain and hillside, valley and plain, margined the 
banks of numerous ponds, or fringed with overhanging 
branches innumerable silvery streams. 

Norman, who had not seen as much of wildwood life 
as his companions, felt a strange, awe-inspiring sensation 
on' entering deeper and deeper into the trackless and sun- 
less region. The Woodranger showed that he was in his 
true element, and it was not long before the exuberance of 
spirit, welling up in his heart, as the fountain in the forest 
finds an outlet for its overflowing treasures, sought an 
escape in his rude, philosophical speech : 

"Man is nearest human natur' when alone with the 
works 0' his Creator. I do not have to go to the haunts o' 
man to find the imprint o' his hand. It is on the forest 
everywhere. What better evidence do you want o' man's 

304 



THE WAYS OF THE WILD 305 

pride than in yon pine, which lifts its cap a good fifty feet 
above the heads of its neighbors ? What is more typical o' 
man's aggressive natur than that oak, which claims and 
holds, too, double the sarcuit o' territory that even the 
proud pine possesses ? In that silver birch, growing by the 
bank o' that leetle stream, is the very personification o' 
grace and beauty and modesty. See how the tiny vines 
cling to it as if it were their natural mother. I love the 
birch best o' all the wildwood trees. It may be there are 
more useful ones, and I am mindful o' the ash that makes 
a tolerable paddle, and the poplar better yet. There be 
many others better and more useful, I allow, but still I lova 
the birch. 

"To him who stands on the mountain and looks down 
on the forest, the sight presents a scene o' many hues, but 
symmetrical and suggestful o' quiet and repose. But 
below is a gnarled and tangled mass o' drooping branches, 
mossy trunks o' fallen trees, stunted undergrowth stifling 
for the sunlight o' which it has been robbed, distorted 
limbs and knotted roots that will thrust their forbidding 
bodies into sight, all festooned, here and there, with dra- 
peries o' ferns and vines reeking with the cold sweat o' 
their damp environments. Dead trees, like spectres o' 
departed greatness, thrust their skeleton arms mutely 
toward the sunlight, while lean, starved trees eke out a 
miserable existence beside more fortunate kindred, which 
have grown to undue girth, just as some men fatten on 
their relations. An asthmatic beech, a consumptive pine, 
a stunted birch live only at the mercy of some big overbear- 
ing oak. 

"So you see it is continual warfare among the trees, — 
a case o' the survival o' the strongest, as it is among men. 
A hundred infant trees have been dwarfed and suffocated 
by this giant pine, which, like some big general, will stand 
lordly and grand until the silent ax o' the gray destroyer 
shall fell it to make room for another, which will grow and 
fatten on its decaying carcass. Unnumbered seedlings 



306 SNOW ON THE MOUNTAIN 

spring each season from the rich mold o' them which have 
perished afore 'em, and they, too, become food for the next 
generation. Not one in a thousand survives in the struggle 
for the sunlight, which means life to them, and yet in the 
grand march o' ages those few have made the innumerable 
host surrounding us. 

"I never see one o' the Massachusetts men without 
thinking o' the tall, haughty, defiant pine, unbending to the 
strongest blasts, and as changeless as the December sky on 
a moonlit night. The Scotch-Irish remind me o' the stub- 
born, aggressive oak, spreading out its branches where it 
listeth, severe and fearless, but generous and hospitable to 
those who find the way to its heart. The two clans o' trees 
can never live together, as many other species o' the for- 
est do. 

"But forgive me, lads, for running off into this sarmon 
at the outset. You must think me a pretty companion to 
let my foolish tongue lead me sich a race. I fear me much 
my tongue is like a runaway brook, forever babbling o' 
what it cannot in reason know. I often find myself listen- 
ing to its lectures, when there be none other to hear, unless 
the trees have ears." 

"But your talk is always interesting. You have such 
new ideas." 

"As old as natur', lad, as old as natur." 



^noto on tije fountain 

By Richard Burton 

Yon towering height is softened into grace, 
And loveliness by snow its summit bears 

So have I seen some rugged human face 
Made beautiful with age and silver hairs. 



Causes of tfje American devolution 

ii 



The Quebec Act 

Bv James H. Stark 



JJ^pPN OTHER important factor in the causes of the 

b^JSIa. Ampriran T? pvnlvfinn wsq fVip 5n.r^llpr] "DnpKpr 



*s 



American Revolvtion was the so-called ''Quebec 
"5>S^4 Act." This act John Adams asserted constituted 

a "f rightful system," and James Bowdoin pro- 
nounced it to be "an act for encouraging and establishing 
Popery." The policy of this legislation may be doubted. 
Of its justice there can be no doubt. The establishment 
of the Catholic clergy in Canada and their resultant domi- 
nation has entailed many disadvantages upon the governing 
powers of the dominion. But at the time the law was 
passed it was a simple act of justice. Had Parliament 
refused to do this it would have been guilty of that tyranny 
charged against it by the Revolutionists, and to-day the 
dominion would not be a part of the British Empire. To 
the student of American history it at first seems very 
strange' and unaccountable why at the outbreak of the Rev- 
olution, the recently conquered French provinces were not 
the first to fly to arms, especially as their mother country, 
France, had espoused the cause of the Revolutionists. 
Instead of this the French Canadians remained loyal to 
their conquorer and resisted by force of arms all attempts 
to conquer Canada. The explanation of this curious state 
of affairs is the "Quebec Act." 

By this act the French Canadians were to retain their 
property, their language, their religion, their laws, and to 

307 



308 CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

hold office. In fact, they were allowed greater liberty than 
they had had when subject to France. All this was allowed 
them by the British Parliament, and this was resented by 
the English colonists, for they were not allowed to confis- 
cate their lands and drive out the inhabitants as the New 
Englanders did when they conquered Nova Scotia, New 
Brunswick, and Prince Edwards Island. They also claimed 
that by the laws of the realm Roman Catholics could not 
vote, much less hold office. At a meeting of the first Con- 
tinental Congress, held October 21, 1774, an address to the 
people of Great Britain was adopted, setting forth the 
grievances of the colonies, the principal one of which was 
as follows : 

"Nor can we suppress our astonishment that a British 
Parliament should ever consent to establish in that country 
a religion that has deluged your island in blood and dis- 
persed impiety, bigotry, persecution, murder and rebellion 
through every part of the world, and we think the legisla- 
ture of Great Britain is not authorized to establish a 
religion fraught with such sanguinary and infamous tenets." 

This act also granted the Catholic clergy a full parlia- 
mentary title to the old ecclesiastical estates, and to tithes 
paid by members of their own religion, but no Protestant 
was obliged to pay tithes. It provided for a provincial gov- 
erning council in which Catholics were eligible to sit, 
and it established the Catholic clergy securely in their liv- 
ing. There were then in the Province of Quebec two 
hundred and fifty Catholics to one Protestant*. Surely it 
would have been a monstrous perversion of justice to have 
placed their vast majority under the domination of this 
petty minority, it would have degraded the Catholics into a 
servile caste and reproduced in America, in a greatly aggra- 
vated form, the social conditions which existed in Ireland, 



♦In the debates on the Canada bill in 1779, it was stated that there were but 365 Protest- 
ants and 150,000 Catholics witbin the Province of Quebec. 



CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 309 

but those determined sticklers for freedom of conscience 
and "the right of self-government," those clamorers for the 
liberty of mankind, the dominion propagandists, were horri- 
fied at the bestowal of any "freedom" or "right" upon a 
people professing a religion different from their own. 
"The friends of America" in England, Chatham, Fox, 
Burke, Barre and others joined them in their denunciation 
of the act, the last named especially depreciating the 
"Popish" measure. 

On February 15, 1776, it was resolved that a committee 
of three, two of whom should be members of congress, be 
appointed to pursue such instructions as shall be given them 
by that body.* Benjamin Franklin, Samuel Chase and Chas. 
Carroll were chosen for this purpose, and John Carroll, a 
Jesuit, who afterwards became the first Roman Catholic Arch- 
bishop of the United States, accompanied them. The two 
Carrylls were chosen because they were Catholics, but they 
were not justified in joining an expedition that might 
kindle the flame of religious war on the Catholic frontier. 
The commissioners carried with them an "Address to the 
Inhabitants of the Province of Quebect from Congress, 
which for cool audacity and impertinance can scarcely be par- 
alleled. It commenced with "We are too well acquainted 
wi}h the liberality of sentiment distinguishing your natures 
to imagine that difference of religion will prejudice you 
against a hearty amity with us," etc. 

The address from the Continental Congress was trans- 
lated into French and was very favorably received. They 
then begged the translator, as he had succeeded so well, to 
try his hand on the address to Great Britain. He had 
equal success in this, and read his performance to a numer- 
ous audience. But when he came to that part which treats 
of the new modeling of the province, draws a picture of 



♦Washington's Writings, VoL III, page 361. 
fDebates, etc., page 603. 



310 CAUSES OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 

the Catholic religion and Canadian manners, they could not 
restrain their resentment nor express it except in broken 
curses. "O the perfidious, double-faced Congress ! Let 
us bless and obey our benevolent prince, whose humanity is 
consistent and extends to all religions. Let us abhor all 
who would seduce us from our loyalty by acts that would 
dishonor a Jesuit, and whose address, like their resolves, is 
destructive of their own objects." 

While the commissioners were applying themselves 
with the civil authorities, Rev. Mr. Carroll was diligently 
employed with the clergy, explaining to them that the resist- 
ance of the united colonies was caused by the invasion of 
their charter by England. To this the clergy replied that 
since the acquisition of Canada by the British government 
its inhabitants had no aggression to complain of, that on the 
contrary government had faithfully complied with all the 
stipulations of the treaty, and had in fact sanctioned and 
protected the laws and customs of Canada with a delicacy 
that demanded their respect and gratitude, and that on the 
score of religious liberty the British government had left 
them nothing to complain of. 

And therefore that when the well-established principle 
that allegiance is due to protection, the clergy could not 
teach that even neutrality was consistent with the alle- 
giance due to such ample protection as Great Britain had 
shown the Catholics of Canada. The judicious and liberal 
policy of the British goverment to the Catholics had suc- 
ceeded in inspiring them with sentiments of loyalty which 
the conduct of the people and the public bodies of some of 
the united colonies had served to strengthen and confirm. 
Mr. Carroll was also informed that in the colonies whose 
liberality he was now avouching, the Catholic religion had 
not been tolerated hitherto. Priests were excluded under 
severe penalties and Catholic missionaries among the 
Indians rudely and cruelly treated. 






'.. 



THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 311 

John Adams, who was a member of the congress that 
sent the commissioners to Canada, in a letter to his wife, 
did not state the true reason for sending a Jesuit priest 
there, and also warned her against divulging the fact that a 
priest had been sent, for fear of offending his constituents.* 



•Letters from John Adams to his wife, Vol. I, page 



Qfyz C&rfetma* <®uest 

By Margaret J Preston 

'Twas a Saturday night, mid-winter, 

And the snow with its sheeted pall 
Had covered the stubbled clearings 

That girdled the rude built "Hall." 
But high in the deep-mouthed chimney, 

'Mid laughter and shout and din, 
The children were piling yule-logs 

To welcome the Christmas in. 

*'Ah, so ! We'll be glad to-morrow, " 

The mother half musing said, 

As she looked at the eager workers, 

And laid on a sunny head 
A touch as of benediction — 
"For Heaven is just as near 
The father at far Patuxent, 
As if he were with us here. 

"So choose ye the pine and holly, 

And shake from their boughs the snow ; 
We'll garland the rough-hewn rafters 

As they garlanded long ago — 
Or ever Sir George went sailing 

Away o'er the wild sea foam, — 
In my beautiful English Sussex, 

The happy old walls at home." 



312 THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 

' i 

She sighed. As she paused a whisper 

Set quickly all eyes a-strain : 
"See! SeeP y — and the boy's hand pointed^- 
. u There's a face at the vrindow pane /" 
One instant a ghastly terror 

Shot sudden her features o'er 
The next, and she rose unblenching r 

And opened the fast-barred door, 

**Who be ye that seek admission ? 

Who cometh for food and rest ? \ 

This night is a night above others 

To shelter a straying guest." 
Deep out of the snowy silence 

A gutteral answer broke \ i 

**I come from the great Three Rivers, 
I am chief of the Roan-oke." 

Straight in through the frightened children 

Unshrinking, the red man strode, 
And loosed on the blazing hearthstone, 

From his shoulder a light borne load ; 
And out of the pile of deer-skins, 

With look as serene and mild 
As if it had been his cradle. 

Stepped softly a httle child. 

As he chafed at the fire his fingers, 

Close pressed to the brawny knee, 
The gaze that the silent savage 

Bent on him was strange to see. 
And then with a voice whose yearning 

The father could scarcely stem, 
He said — to the children pointing — 
"I want him to be like them ! 

"They weep for the boy in the wigwam : 

I bring him a moon of days, : 

To learn of the speaking paper, 

To hear of the wiser ways 
Of the people beyond the water, 

To break with the plow the sod, — 
To be kind to pappoose and woman, — 

To pray to the white man's God/ 



I 

THE CHRISTMAS GUEST 3 IS 

I 
**1 give thee my hand !" and the Lady 

Pressed forward with sudden cheer ; 
*Thou shalt eat of my English pudding, 
And drink of my Christmas beer, — 
My sweethearts, this night remember, 

All strangers are kith and kin, 
This night when the dear Lord's Mother 
Could find no room at the inn !" 



Next morn from the colony belfry 

Pealed gayly the Sunday chime, 
And merrily forth the people 

Flocked, keeping the Christmas time. 
And the Lady with bright-eyed children 

Behind her, their lips a-smile, 
And the Chief in his skins and wampum, 

Came walking the narrow isle. 

Forthwith from the congregation 
" Broke fiercely a sullen cry ; 
"Out ! out ! with the crafty red-skin ! 

Have at him / A spy ! A spy /" 
And quickly from belts leaped daggers. 

And swords from their sheaths flashed bare. 
And men from their seats defiant 

Sprang, ready to slay him there. 

But facing the crowd with courage 

As calm as a knight of yore, 
Stepped bravely the fair-browed woman, 

The thrust of the steel before ; 
And spake with a queenly gesture, 

Her hand on the Chief's brown breast, 
" Ye dare not impeach my honor ! 

Ye dare not insult my guest!" 

\ 

They dropped at her word their weapons, 

Half -shamed as the Lady smiled, 
And told them the red man's story, 

And showed them the red man's child ; 
And pledged them her broad plantations, 

That never would such betray 
The trust that a Christian woman 

Had shown on a Christmas day ! 



<3Tf)e Cot in tfje ^aEep 

By Mrs. Miron J. Hazeltinb 

The following verses were written more than a third of a century ago*. 
The poem was extensively copied, probably on account of the gentle and 
unaffected manner in which the gifted author treated a theme that appeals 
to all whose early years were passed in a cottage home, situated among 
our beautiful hills. Mrs. Hazeltine is the wife of Mr. Miron J. Hazletine^ 
the well-known chess authority, and himself a writer of note. They have 
lived for many years at their home r "The Larches." in Campton. Mrs. 
Hazeltine was related to William Cullen Bryant. — Editor. 

There's a spot that I love in a bright sunny vale, 

Where whole hours I've listened to song 
Of the redbreast and thrush,, as the soft balmy gale 

Bore the notes of their chanting along. 

On a green mossy bank, 'neath a large spreading tree, 

In the deep heat of noon, I have lain 
And watched the light shadows, so sportive and free, 

Chase each spirit-like form o T er the plain. 

I've sat 'neath the shade with the poets of old, 

And drank from Castolia's pure fount; 
And gathered, as their bright thoughts would unfold, 

Rich gems from Parnassus' high mount. 

I've sat there till eve drew her beautiful veil 

O'er the radiant face of the day, 
When the moon from her chamber came forth ghostly and pale, 

And majestically passed on her way. 

I've watched the bright stars as they coyly would peep 

Through the thick waving leaves of the tree, 
And thought I were blest if at last I might sleep 

With such watchful eyes guarding o'er me. 

A sweet, quiet cot in the vale might be seen 

Around whose low, moss-covered eaves 
The young twining woodbine, so tender and green, 

Spread out its rich covering of leaves. 

That green, sunny vale will be dear to my heart 

Though wide o'er the earth I may roam, 
And that low, quiet cot, with its vine-covered walls, 

I shall ever remember as home. 
314 



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Drawn tor Granite State Magazine by y. Warren Thyng. 

THE COT IN THE VALLEY 




Qtfyt Pascataqua fttber 



By. John Scales, A. B., A. M. 



HE Pascataqua river was discovered by the very- 
earliest explorers along the New England coast, 
but the first one to make mention of his sailing on 
its waters was Martin Pring, who came up as far as its head- 
waters at Dover in June, 1603. He was searching for 
"sassafras," that being regarded as one of the great reme- 
dies then popular in the medical world. He did not find 
any, but says he saw huge forest trees, various kinds of 
wild animals, and the camping-place of the Indians at the 
head-waters, where they had cooked their fish and feasted 
in the spring of the year, when the ^almon and other fish 
were plenty about the falls. This fishing and feasting sea- 
son was over a few weeks before Captain Pring arrived, but 
he saw and reported the fresh fire brands, which the 
Indians had left when they started on a hunting excursion 
up country, among lakes Winnepesaukee, Suncook, Penna- 
cook, and other favorite summer resorts which they had, 
something as the civilized mortals now spend their hot- 
weather vacations. 

During the next score of years, from 1603 to I ^ 2 3> 
when Edward Hilton and his party settled at Dover Point, 
it is quite probable that English fishermen caught fish all 
along the coast of Maine and New Hampshire, and in doing 
so frequently came up the Pascataqua river, which at cer- 
tain seasons of the year, then, was swarming with fish of vari- 
ous kinds, and which those brave fishermen caught in large 
quantities and carried back to their homes on the British 
Isles. So much for the beginning of history. I am not 
going to give a history of the settlements on the river, but 
a description of the river itself. 

315 



316 THE PASCATAQUA RIVER 

IN MEMORY OF 

THE CONTINENTAL SLOOP OF WAR 

RANGER 

LAUNCHED FROM THIS ISLAND 

MAY 10, 1777. 

SAILED FOR FRANCE NOVEMBER I, 1 777 

JOHN PAUL JONES, CAPTAIN 

WITH DISPATCHES OF 

BURGOYNE'S SURRENDER 

RECEIVED FEBRUARY I4, 1 778. 

THE FIRST SALUTE 

TO THE STARS AND STRIPES 

FROM THE FRENCH FLEET. 

CAPTURED THE 

BRITISH SLOOP OF WAR DRAKE 

APRIL 24, 1778. 



ERECTED BY THE PAUL JONES CLUB 

OF PORTSMOUTH 

SONS OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION 
1905 

The water between its mouth and the Isles of Shoals 
is a part of Ipswich Bay. The island of Newcastle divides 
the river's mouth into two parts : one, the main branch and 
the lower harbor of Portsmouth, passes out between Fort 
Constitution and Kittery Point ; the other flows out through 
Little Harbor, between Frank Jones' famous Wentworth 
Hotel and the ancient and picturesque Governor Went- 
worth Mansion, now owned by the Coolidge family of Bos- 



THE PASCATAQUA RIVER 317 

ton. Just above where the river is divided by the island of 
Newcastle is the Portsmouth Navy Yard on the east side, 
the city of Portsmouth being on the opposite west bank. 
On Badger's Island, next above the Navy Yard Island, is 
the terminus of the Portsmouth, Kittery & York Beach 
Electric Railway, and also the terminus of the Portsmouth 
& Dover Electric Railroad. From long before the Revo- 
lution, down to about 1850, Badger's Island was famous for 
its ship building. It was there that Paul Jones' ship, the 
ganger f was built in 1777, and a large stone post with a 
bronze tablet on it marks the spot near which the ship was 
built. The great railroad coal pockets are directly oppo- 
site, on the west shore. 

Next above this point in the river is the long railroad 
bridge, standing on piles. Passing under the bridge the 
city is left behind and the most beautiful part of the river 
is entered upon. On the east is Eliot and on the west is 
the rural part of Portsmouth and the town of Newington. 
The first object that greets the eye above the bridge is the 
huge paper mill on Freeman's Point, where several mints 
of money have been expended in the construction and 
equipment of the largest paper mill in America, if not in 
the world. 

Passing around Freeman's Point, the course changes a 
little to the west, and is at its narrowest point, although it 
is there a third of a mile wide and very deep. The high 
ledge there on the west shore is called "The Pulpit," in pass- 
ing which the old boatmen always took off their hats and 
"made their manners," for good luck. Bad luck was always 
sure to befall them soon after, if they failed in this 
observance. 

Just above there, on the Eliot shore, is "Boiling Rock," 
which causes the swift flowing tide to "boil" as it whirls round 
the immovable boulder or protruding ledge. From there to 
Dover Point, about five miles, the river is perfectly straight, 
with high, even shores on both sides. It is called the 
"Long Reach," and is one of the most beautiful sheets of 



318 THE PASCATAQUA RIVER 

water in New Hampshire, or anywhere else. The culti- 
vated fields on the high bluffs come to the water's edge, 
and the views from the residences are beautiful. Summer 
residences are being built all along the shores in Newington 
and in Eliot, which anciently was a part of Kittery. 

"The Pulpit" was so named in the very earliest history 
of New Hampshire. President Cutt in his will gives his 
wife the use of land at "Ye Pulpit," till his son Samuel 
should be of age. It was here that Madam Ursula Cutt 
retired after his death and was killed hy the Indians in 
1694. Cutt's Cove is between The Pulpit and Freeman's 
Point, which locality for two hundred years was called 
Ham's Point, from William Ham who had a grant of land 
here in 1652. The ancient name ought to be restored and 
forever retained. On the Kittery shore, opposite, are the 
"Adams Oaks." 

The coves along the west shore have various names 
that they have borne for two hundred and fifty years or 
more. For example, the Lower Huntress, from which a 
ferry once ran to the Eliot shore at Paul's shipyard, whence 
another road led into the country. Boiling Rock is on the 
Eliot shore side there. Between the Lower Huntress and 
the Upper Huntress is Canney's Creek, which was the 
boundary line between ancient Dover (which included New- 
ington) and Portsmouth. Next above is Shag Rock, a short 
distance off shore from Ragg's Point, on the Rollins farm. 
It was named for Jaffrey Ragg, who resided there as early 
as 1648. Next above are Downing's Cove and Pine Point. 
Above this is Pickering's Cove, and above that is Bloody 
Point, where is the terminus of the bridge from Dover 
Point. Off shore from Bloody Point, perhaps thirty or 
forty rods from the wrecked schooner, is Langstaff Rocks, 
dangerous to shipping, as the tide flows very swiftly there 
as it comes under the bridge. 

The Pascataqua flows between Dover Point and Bloody 
Point, its source being a mile or more above the bridge, at 
the junction of Oyster River and the outlet from Little 



THE PASCATAQUA RIVER 319 

Bay and Great Bay, which outlet, a few rods wide but very 
deep, flows around Fox Point, the northern most point of 
Newington. It is a very high Bluff between Little Bay 
and the Pascataqua river, and commands some of the finest 
views in New Hampshire. 

About a half mile from the head of the river, and mid- 
way in it, are two islands, Goat and Rock island, the former 
being the larger, about an acre of ground and ledge. It 
was over these islands that old Pascataqua bridge extended 
from Durham, at Franklin City, to Newington, which was 
completed in 1794 and was in use till it was washed away 
in February, 1855. That bridge was 2,362 feet long and 38 
feet wide. It was regarded as the masterpiece of bridge 
building in the United States at that time. The name of 
Pascataqua Bridge is still given to the neighborhood around 
the Durham terminus, though only the old abutments now 
remain. 

A short distance below the old abutment on the Dur- 
ham side is Cedar Point, at the extremity of which is the 
junction of three town lines, Dover, Madbury and Durham. 
An iron rod in the ledge marks the starting point of these 
three lines. Here the Pascataqua is joined by Back river, 
which is on the west side of Dover Neck, and is a tide 
water river up as far as the Sawyer lower mill, where the 
Bellamy river empties into the salt water. The mouth of 
Back river is between Cedar Point and Redding Point, the 
first point of land above Hilton's or Dover Point. Between 
Goat Island and the Dover & Portsmouth Railroad bridge, 
a distance of a mile or two on the Newington shore, there 
are several beautiful coves and points of land with ancient 
names, and one little island called Hen Island. The water 
flows very rapidly there when the tide is coming out from 
the bays and Back river, and is known as the "Horse 
Races." 

In ancient times all the traffic was by boats and gunda- 
lows on the river, as it was more expeditious and easier. 
In coming up from Portsmouth the boatmen "made their 



320 THE PASCATAQUA RIVER 

manners" at "The Pulpit" and took a drink of New Eng- 
land rum to go up the Long Reach successfully. When 
they passed Frank's Fort they used to sing out "Barn 
Door !" as soon as they caught sight of a barn on the 
height of land on the Eliot shore, the doors of which were 
never known to be shut from the early spring time, when 
boating began, till late in the fall. This was the signal for 
a dram, and the men would flat their oars aud take their 
grog to give them strength, as they thought, to get safely 
around Bloody Point. Another dram was always deemed 
necessary at the "Horse Races." 

On the Eliot shore were formerly shipyards at several 
coves. One of the marked features of that shore is an 
island called "Frank's Fort," in the Long Reach. It is 
about an acre in extent, and is made of hardpan and gravel. 
The sides are quite steep and thirty or forty feet above the 
low tide. Whence its name nobody knows. It was so 
called in 1648 in a grant of land to "John Green," dated 
February 14, and it has always been so called to the present 
time. It was so named by the earliest settlers. As it looks 
like a fort when viewed from the west side, that appearance 
probably gave rise to the name "Fort," but who the 
"Frank" was nobody can guess. It never was used for a 
fortification, but there has always been a tradition in New- 
ington that some of the powder that was taken from Fort 
William and Mary, in December, 1774, was hidden there, 
and later was removed to the towns around. 

This island is the western boundary of "Mast Cove," 
which is reached by "Mast Lane," on the ancient Tobey 
farm, which has been in possession of the Tobey family 
since 1687, when the land was granted to James Tobey, and 
his son Stephen inherited it at the death of his father, on 
the 21st of May, 1705, when he was killed by the Indians. 
The present owner is Mr. Martin Parry Tobey, seventh in 
descent from James, through Stephen, Samuel, Samuel, 
James and James Shapleigh. Stephen was the first of the 
family who built ships in that cove, and his descendants 



THE PASCATAQUA RIVER 321 

engaged in the business more or less down to 1850. Mast 
Lane and Mast Cove were so named in very early times, 
because all of the lumbermen used to haul the huge white 
pines to the water there and ship them to Portsmouth, 
whence the largest and best were shipped to England, for 
the King's navy. 

A short distance below Frank's Fort, perhaps a mile, 
is "Green Acre," noted all over the country, and in foreign 
lands, as a literary center and a place of rest during July 
and August of each year. The land was granted to Major 
Joseph Hammond more than two hundred years ago, and 
remained in possession of his descendants till 1890, when 
the Green Acre movement was started and the present 
hotel was built. It is a beautiful spot, the high elevation 
overlooking the river almost from source to mouth, with a 
grand panorama of hills and mountains beyond. Major 
Hammond's garrison was a short distance north of where 
the hotel stands, and afforded safety to the families around 
in the period of Indian wars. The originators of the 
Green Acre movement were Professor and Mrs. Moses 
Gerrish Farmer and their daughter, Miss Sarah J. Farmer. 
To them were added in proprietorship of the hotel and 
grounds, Lieut .-Col. Francis Keefe, Dr. J. L. M. Willis, 
G. Everett Hammond and Martin Parry Tobey. This 
Summer School has various departments, music, art, nature 
study, etc., and every one is allowed free speech, but no 
discussions are allowed. 

In the cove at the foot of the hill, in front of the hotel, 
was for many years a famous shipyard, where the Hans- 
coms, an enterprising race of shipbuilders, launched many 
a sturdy vessel. The yard was dismantled about fifty years 
ago. It was here that the clipper ship Nightingale was 
built, which was the fastest sailing ship that ever crossed 
the Atlantic by wind. 

About a mile above Mast Cove, and nearly opposite on 
the east shore from Dover Point, is the spot where an his- 
toric event of great importance took place, at the house of 



322 THE PASCATAQUA RIVER 

William Everett, November 16, 1652. It was then and 
there that the Commissioners of Massachusetts, Simon 
Bradstreet, Captain Thomas Wiggin, Samuel Symonds and 
Bryan Pendleton met the landowners and freemen of Kit- 
tery and received their signatures to a document which 
placed what is now the state of Maine under the jurisdic- 
tion of Massachusetts, in which condition it remained 168 
years, as the District of Maine, till it became a state in the 
Union in 1820. The cellar where the Everett house stood 
is still pointed out to visitors. Mr. Bradstreet was after- 
wards governor of Massachusetts. 

At this locality, between Dover Point and the Everett 
house where the signing and transferring of allegiance to 
Massachusetts took place, is a wide space of water, making 
the junction of the Newichawannock river with the Pas- 
cataqua. The Newichawannock is a tide-water river up to 
South Berwick, where it is met by the Salmon Falls river at 
Quamphegan falls, at which are mills. The Cochecho river 
empties into the Newichawannock near Thompson's Point, 
about three miles above Dover Point. That point was so 
called from David Thompson, who came over with Edward 
Hilton in 1623, and there is strong evidence to show that 
he built his first house there in 1623, and that his men 
remained there several years, and that three of the men 
died and were buried there before 1630, the graves^ of whom 
with parts of the skeletons were found by the late Moses 
Gage when he opened a brickyard there about seventy 
years ago. 

The reader may be interested to know the origin of 
the name "Bloody Point," which has been mentioned sev- 
eral times in this article. The name is at present confined 
to the point of land which is the terminus of the railroad 
bridge from Dover Point, but as early as 1633 it was applied 
to the entire tract of land now Newington, which was a 
part of Old Dover for eighty years, and is called in the old 
records "Bloody Point in Dover." It came in this way: 




NEW DRY DOCK AT NAVY YARD, FLOOD TIDE 



CSW£3 






^~V~*7~3 



'3BBSem*£-~*. 



WHAl.EBACK. LIGHT 




RIVERMOUTH LANDING- 



THE PASCATAQUA RIVER 323 

In 1631 Capt. Walter Neal of Portsmouth, then Straw- 
berry Bank, was governor of the plantation there and Capt. 
Thomas Wiggin was governor of the plantation at Dover. 
The lands were held under conflicting claims or land 
grants made by companies in England. A dispute arose 
between Captain Neal and Captain Wiggin as to the bound- 
ary line between their territories. The former contended 
that his line was along the shore of the Pascataqua; Cap- 
tain Wiggin contended that his line extended from Canney's 
Creek, on the Pascataqua, across to Hogsty Cove, on Great 
Bay. Both of the captains were high spirited and haughty, 
but withal discreet. They met and had a furious war of 
words and threatened each other with drawn swords. 
They did not come to blows but came very near shedding 
blood about the possession of this piece of land. Mr. Hub- 
bard, the worthy historian who recorded the story, says 
that "both the litigants had so much wit in their anger as 
to waive the battle, each accounting himself to have done 
very manfully, in what was threatened; so as in respect, 
not of what did, but what might have fallen out, the place 
to this day (1680) retains the formidable name of Bloody 
Point." 

The name continued to be used in town meetings and 
legal documents down to 171 3, when the General Court set 
it off from Dover and called it Newington. The name has 
since then been confined to the point of land which is the 
southern terminus of the Portsmouth & Dover Railroad 
bridge, as it was in that vicinity that the bloodless encoun- 
ter of words occurred between the valiant captains of 
Dover and Strawberry Bank. 

The name of this beautiful river has been spelled in 
various ways, although the variations are not so numerous 
as those of New Hampshire's great lake. In common 
phrase it is spelled Piscataqua, but Rev. Dr. A. H. Quint, 
Gov. Charles W. Bell, Miss Mary P. Thompson, and others 
who have studied the question carefully, say the correct spell- 
ing is Pascataqua, which was the very earliest spelling and 



324 DIES DOLORIS 

was used generally down to seventy-five years ago. The In- 
dians used it for ages before the white man came here, and 
according to the best authorities it means a divided tidal 
water, or branched river, which it is in fact. The name 
Piscataqua does not mean anything in Indian or English 
language, and it ough; not to be used by intelligent people. 



By Akson G Osgood 



I saw the darkness lift, and the cold light 
Dim in its first uncertainty grow bright 
And tinge with chilly green the blue-black sky 
There where the fragile crescent hung. And I 
Saw the lone star that loitered in the east, 
Timid and red, like an unwelcome guest, 
Grow sickly yellow 'mid th' encircling glow 
Of gold. The clouds turned amethyst, and Lo! 
A ruddy tint dyed leaves and dewy lawn. 
And yet I could but sigh : "Is this the morn ?" 

I saw the sun mount up, and all the air 

Quivered with song. The feathered tribe his glare 

Hailed with unconscious art. Thin smoke curled high 

From chimney-tops and men awoke to ply 

Their several tasks. I watched the laggard hours 

Creep slowly on. Bees droned and nodding flowers 

In beauty vied. The great world's busy hum 

Rose to my ear. Ere long the noon had come. 

O'er all its warmth and heavy fragrance lay. 

And yet I could but ask : "Is this the day ?" 

I saw the shadows lengthen. One by one 

They crept to kiss the hills. I saw the sun 

Blushing an angry red sink swiftly down. 

His parting rays gilded the spired town. 

I watched the sunset's purple glory fade, 

The cool of eve stole forth. Descending shade 

Wrapt in a sober mantle street and glade. 

Kind Heaven her jewels showed. I knew the cry 

Of creatures of the dark. The night was nigh. 

All this I saw and heard yet knew it not. 

To look was vain for sorrow veiled my sight. 

Night comes with peace ; but this — could this be night ? 



punting ifataltttes 

The following list of hunting fatalities in northern New England, 
as compiled by the Lancaster Gazette, seems worthy of preservation, while 
it becomes a warning of the perils of sport that come not from the hunted 
but from the hunter. It is doubtful if this list is complete. — Editor. 



w 



ITH the close season on moose and deer going into 
effect in Maine and New Hampshire, statistics 
show that two months of hunting in New Eng- 
land have cost nineteen lives. 

Of these fatalities eight occurred in Maine, six in 
Massachusetts, three in New Hampshire and two in Ver- 
mont. Four of the deaths occurred from exposure and one 
from an attack of heart disease, while in the other fourteen 
cases the fatal shot in only one instance was self-inflicted, 
thus leaving thirteen hunters at the close of a season's 
sport responsible for a human life. Two of the victims 
were women, one each from Massachusetts and New Hamp- 
shire. 

In addition there are at least fourteen others who have 
been seriously injured by the accidental discharge of hunt- 
ers' weapons : six in Maine, six in Massachusetts, and one 
each in New Hampshire and Vermont. In these cases six 
of the wounds were self-inflicted. 

The majority of the accidents occurred in October, 
when thirteen of the victims met their fate. This was due 
principally to the heavy foliage, which clung to the trees 
until late in the fall. That the number of victims in the 
Pine Tree State was not greater this season is believed to 
be due largely due to the steps taken by the Maine author- 
ities in enacting and enforcing laws. 

The first death reported was in October, when Edgar 
Bailey, sixty-one years of age, was shot and instantly killed 
at Mattawamkeag by a companion who mistook him for a 
bear. B«cause a youthful companion thought he was a 
deer, Benjamin F. McDole, aged thirty-five years, met bis 

325 



326 HUNTING FATALITIES 

death near Island Falls, Me., and Samuel E. Saunders, 
while clambering into his boat at Denmark, Me., accident- 
ally discharged his rifle and was instantly killed. Charles 
Pomeroy left a camp near Schoodic for a day's hunting and 
failed to return. John Bunting, thirty-five years of age, 
strayed away while moose hunting with his young son, and 
was found dead from exposure. 

In Massachusetts one of the first deaths was that of 
Augustus Faille, aged seventeen years, who was shot by the 
accidental discharge of his companion's rifle in the woods 
near Conway. At Rowley, in the early part of October, 
Adam Busche, a game warden, was seriously wounded, it 
is alleged, by Patrick Cahill, while he was attempting to 
arrest the man on a charge of violating the Sunday hunt- 
ing laws. The unexpected discharge of a companion's gun 
proved fatal to William Henry at Lenox, and while some 
boys were fooling, during a hunting trip near Randolph, 
John Delaney, fifteen years old, was shot by his brother and 
died soon afterwards. 

Massachusetts also had one woman victim, Mrs. Rich- 
ard Kaine, fifty years of age, who was shot and killed by 
two boys in the woods near Gloucester. Allen Bradbury, 
aged eighteen, was killed near Newburyport, while his com- 
panion was attempting to load a gun on a duck hunting ex- 
cursion, and Irving H. Bolles of Melrose, thirty-five years of 
age, - dropped dead from heart failure while hunting near 
Fitchburg. 

• Two of New Hampshire's three fatalities were for a 
long time shrouded in mystery. Miss Lillian Paine was 
found in the woods near Keene, with a bullet wound in her 
head. She declared she was shot by some unknown person, 
but upon her death an official finding of "accidental shoot- 
ing" was returned. The other death was that of Philip 
Conroy, aged sixteen, whose body was found after two 
weeks' incessant search in the woods near Lancaster. Fred 
H. Childs, Jr., nine years of age, was shot by a fourteen- 
year-old chum. 



Cfje ^fjabofcus .pen ifoUoto 

A Plain Tale of Plain People, Some of Whom You May Have 
Known, All of Whom Lived a Third of a Century Ago 

By George Waldo Browne 

[Copyright, 1906, by the Author] 

What shadows we are and what shadows we pursue i — Burke. 



Sfi 



CHAPTER VIII 

"THE HARBOR LIGHT" 
"There's a light in the window for thee, brother." 

SUk^JPON reaching Deacon Goodwill's farmstead and 
learning that it was convenient for them to stop 
with him over night, Reuben Rover and his friend, 
leaving Mr. Hungerford to join the host, went up 
to the cow yard, in sight of the house, where they had seen 
Abe Goodwill milking. After their brief greeting and a 
few commonplace remarks, during which the young milker 
continued to play fife and drum with the jerky streams of 
milk and the pail, he finally said: 

"If I ain't missed my calculations you were a couple of 
strangers I see daown to the auction this afternoon." 
"We were there," replied Rover. 

"See me and old Bet come into town?" asked Abe, 
stopping his manipulations and showing some interest in 
their conversation. 

327 



328 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

"Enough to see that you were holding more than your 
own with the Johnson horse." 

"Yeou can bet yeour boots I was. But, say, mister, 
yeou look like a fellow who can see through a millstone, 
providing the hole ain't too crooked. What do yeou think 
of Bet?" 

"She promises well." 

"Better'n any of the others ?" 

"Better than any I have seen," which, as a matter of 
fact, did not carry much weight except with Abe, who now 
left his milking stool and came to the bars where the new- 
comers were standing. 

"Mister, I daon't know yeou and I ain't any business to 
talk this to a stranger, but I must say something to some- 
body? Dad's dead set against it, which is all right for a 
man in his position and profession. But I'm planning to 
enter Bet in the Coldbrook races next month for the best 
in two and twenty. Of course some are going to larf 
at me, and just how I'm going to do it I don't know. But 
I'm going to, an I ain't going to back daown." 

"I wish you success, though I wish you had started on 
something else to win fame and money." 

"'Tain't fame I'm after, mister; it's money. Yeou 
see, I want to go to Coe's Academy, but dad says he can't 
afford it. Perhaps he can't. But when his hat blowed off 
the other day, and his papers flew all over the lower field, I 
see notes and mortgages enough to send Enoch and I both 
kiting through. But, letting that alone, the Coldbrook prize 
would fix all my expenses and send me through fluking." 

"The object is laudible if the means are not. If there 
is anything I can do for you I will do it." 

"Bully for yeou! Excuse me, mister, if I use pretty 
strong language, but yeou are the first man who has ever 
given me any sympathy. Dad thinks a boy don't care for any 
sympathy, but I tell yeou it's boys who want the most. 
What with pulling beans and digging raound among the 
rocks and stumps all day, with no letup, it comes pretty tough. 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 329 

I'm ignerent as the caowsand I know it, and that makes me 
all the more anxious to go to the academy. There's Cap'en 
Eb, he's sent John off to the big schools a lot. Don't 
know as he's helped John much, but I'd like to get a hack 
at such schools myself. I don't know just haow I'm going 
to get Bet to do her best, and to get a square deal along 
with them jockeys that run the county fair, but I'm bound 
to try my levelest. A ring runs the whole trick, and Jock 
Jenness has managed to get the big plums, and what he 
don't get the east county jockeys and Squire Newbegin 
does. Not that the squire takes hold with the vim and 
bite that Jock does, but I hear this year he means to. 
When the squire settles daown into the traces the load has 
got to move or the harness breaks. I think he intends to 
break the ring. This has woke up the east siders, and that 
man Johnson, who raced with me yesterday, is one of their 
leaders or I'm mistaken. Anyway, he's set on having Bet, 
which seems to me to be pretty good evidence that she's 
worth putting on the track." 

"It will be necessary to give Bet some training," said 
Rover, without replying directly to what Abe had said. 

"I knaowthat, mister. I ain't said a word to anybody, 
but I've begun to train her." 

"Yes?" 

"I suppose yeou'll larf, but if yeou don't give me away 
I won't care. If yeou have been to the village yeou must 
have seen the common called the 'Flatiron.' That used to 
be a race-course, one of the best in these parts for a half- 
mile track. The old track is still to be seen and every 
night, when the weather will let us, Enoch and I take old 
Bet daown there by the back road and, while the folks are 
sleeping, let her spin around the course three or four 
times. By gosh ! yeou ought to see me spin round 
there!" 

"If you will let me know when you have your next 
practice I will go with you." 

"I will, mister, and it'll be the first fair night. Looks 



330 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

so it will be too cloudy to-night. Maybe you will time 
her." V 

"I will, gladly." 

"I have looked it up in the almanac, and I find there 
will be a full moon just before the race at Coldbrook. That 
will give me a chance to give Bet her final exercise/' 

Abe now returned to his milking in good spirits but 
the conversation was kept up discussing the county fair, old 
Bet's prospects, and sundry topics of interest, until finally 
the young farmer changed the subject by saying : 

"Yeou came up with old Hungerford? I'll warrant he 
told yeou his story of how he give away his property. Did 
he tell yeou haow deep he got into that Miller doctrine? 
No? He always leaves out that part, the larfing part. He 
probably told yeou haow he came back to taown so as to 
ascend to Elijah from the little hill back of his old house, 
which ran around so as to come back of the meeting house. 
On the morning appointed for the wind-up, he dumb this 
hill at crack of day, so as to be on hand prompt. When 
the day begun to break the folks in the village could hear 
him praying and shouting to the Lord to be merciful to him 
a sinner. He had got to asking the Lord to send him a 
chariot, as he had done for Elijah, to take him up to heaven, 
when some of the boys, who had followed for fun, set a pile 
of brush on fire. Pete soon smelt the smoke and, sure 
naow the end was near, shut his eyes to shut out the awful 
sight I suppose, and clapping his hands over his head, 
prayed louder and faster 'n ever. He must have looked 
funny, for he had dressed himself up in a suit that must 
have belonged to his grandsur's. The coat had a long tail, 
and the hat was tall and a lot too big for him. 

"While he kept up his praying the boys pushed the fire 
nearer and nearer, till the smoke wound about him. Then 
the blaze run along on the grass till it got all around the 
begging old sinner. How he cried: 

" *0 good Lord ! it has come as I expected and prayed. 
Be merciful to me, a miserable sinner ! Save me and my 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 331 

folks, and let us stand among the lambs at the feet of — ' 
when one of the boys hit the tall hat with a pole, driving 
the tremendous thing clear down over Hungerford's big 
head, shutting out the light and muffling his voice so it 
sounded like a water-wheel a whirring for all its worth but 
all mixed up in its sounds. He tumbled over and lay like a 
log. It was lucky some of the boys run up and put out the 
fire, or he'd burnt up sure. He didn't show any signs of 
getting up till they had throwed the third pail of water on 
him, and he wouldn't believe he was on earth. Poor old 
Hungerford! he realized it sure enough before long. It 
was funny the way he fell into the trap and got sold." 

"So there was a scheme to frighten him ? Perhaps 
this Peleg Thompson had something to do with it." 

"You have made a good guess, and he got a good 
helper in Bill Berry. But I have been told that Thompson 
was jewed out of the place soon after, so it didn't do him 
much good. I've been told the writing on the egg was 
done by writing on it in grease, and then by dropping it 
into vinegar the shel was eaten all around the lines, but 
left 'em. It must have made great excitement for the time. 
I have got my milking done, so come into the house, but 
don't hint to dad what I've told yeou." 

Upon entering the house it was found that Mrs. Good- 
will had the supper table waiting for them, and a few min- 
utes after the family, with their guests, were seated about 
the board. Complaining of his rheumatism, the host said 
but little, so the meal was eaten in comparative silence, 
even Reuben Rover giving up finally in his attempt to be 
sociable. Sometimes a child will accomplish what elder 
persons try in vain, and this was illustrated most forcibly 
as they moved back from the table, and little Enoch cried 
out enthusiastically: 

"Look, mamma! Old Fok'sle has lighted the Harbor 
Light." 

"You should not speak in that way, my son," remon- 
strated the mother. "You should say Mr. Forecastle or, 



332 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

rather Captain Forecastle, as I believe he was once master 
of a ship. Isn't that so, Timothy?" 

"He says so, Mirandy, but you can't depend very much 
on what he says. He's out'n his head in the th' wuss way, 
an' is liable to imagine most anything. The Lord have 
pity on his misguided head." 

"I never see the light any plainer, not even on the 
night of the big storm, when it showed the Leighton boys 
the way home when they were lost on the mountain. The 
poor man should have credit for saving the lost children, 
for they must have perished before morning." 

"He did seem an instrument in th' hands of th' Lord 
to guide th' lost lambs home. It wus very keerless of their 
mother to let the children wander off in that way." 

"Their father had told them they might go walnutting 
on the mountain side. No one thought a storm was com- 
ing up so soon," said Mrs. Goodwill, who was inclined to be 
less severe in her judgment. Then, seeing that their 
remarks had awakened the interest of the strangers, she 
explained: 

"We had reference to a couple of boys who were lost 
on the mountain last fall, and who must have perished in 
an awful storm if it hadn't been for Captain Forecastle's, 
or Fok'sle, as most everybody calls his name, beacon light. 
He followed the sea in his younger years, and on one voy- 
age his only son, a cabin boy, was lost while the vessel was 
trying to make into port. It must have nearly crazed the 
poor man, and now many miles from the sea he builds his 
beacon fires to guide his long-lost boy safe into port. He 
is building a vessel in which he says he's going to sail just 
as soon as he gets it done, seeming to look on little sunk 
pond as an ocean. His fire is uncommonly bright to- 
night." 

The others were all watching the bright flames which 
had sprung up in the distance, making a coppery ball hung 
against the black wall of the starless sky. 

"How long has he been building those beacon fires ?" 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 333 

"Six or seven years, isn't it, Timothy ? At any rate 
since he first came to Sunset. He seems like a real nice 
man, and his poor wife is so patient with him. To humor him 
she puts a candle in the window every night when he does 
not build his beacon. They have a young woman living 
with them who is very good and pretty. I think she is a 
niece. They say Joe Nickleby is waiting on her. I hope 
it is not so, for there isn't a Nickleby good enough for 
Vinnie Beam." 

"Do you know where this Captain Forecastle came 
from ?" asked Quiver. 

"No. I have heard it said he is a Scotchman, though 
his language does not show it. Still sometimes persons 
lose their native tongue after speaking another for some 
time." 

"His has got too much salt brine erbout it to be any- 
thing you could understand," remarked Deacon Goodwill. 

"I cannot say why it should," said Reuben Rover, 
who was watching the beacon closer than the others, "but 
yonder fire reminds me of a picture I saw on a night in the 
heart of the Yunnan frontier in western China. In com- 
pany with three others I had climbed one of those cone- 
like peaks rising almost perpendicularly from the banks of 
the River of Golden Sand, that has its source somewhere in 
the Tibetan mountains. We had traveled overland from 
Burma, and as far as we knew where no foreigner had ever 
pressed a foot. We climbed to what I should judge was 
an altitude of a thousand feet, and then we ascended to the 
roof of a seven-story pagoda, with the ear-marks of ages 
upon it. We then climbed into the top of a good-sized 
tree growing on its summit, from which elevation we 
obtained a wide view of the surrounding country.* The 
early evening had been dusky, but as we reached our lofty 



♦Lieutenant Gamier, the adventurous explorer, who penetrated into this borderland 
between China and Tibet several years later saw and described this same peculiar pagoda and 
its living crown ot tree. — Author. 



334 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

pinnacle the silvery orb of the Oriental night was hung like 
a pictured gem upon the naked wall of the translucent sky, 
lending the happiest effect imaginable to the wild landscape 
made up of plains, valleys, mountains and forests of Yun- 
nan. Added to the grand, sublime panorama of nature was 
to be seen in the distance the coppery gleam of a campfire 
of some caravan halted for the night on the plains, of which 
this harbor light is a remindful prototype. Farther away 
than this fire was a bigger and brighter sheet of flame 
marking the onward sweep of a forest conflagration, which 
is a sight too often seen in that country. As we stood, 
mute spectators of the scene, a dozen or more dark figures, 
looking at first like huge bats, darted out over the land- 
scape between us and the sea of fire. They soon assumed 
the shape of a body of horsemen sweeping over the high- 
lands with the velocity of the wind. Our gaze followed 
them until they had faded into mere specks, and these had 
been swallowed up by the dark dragon of night, like so 
many insects, leaving us to speculate as to who they were, 
whither, they were bound and what might be their errand, 
something as we watch and wonder over yonder beacon fire 
built hundreds of miles away from the spot it can hope to 
benefit." 

His companions were deeply impressed by the wander- 
er's words, and they continued to gaze toward the beacon 
in silence, until it gradually grew dim, and finally died down 
to a few embers that cast a fitful glow over the dark scene. 





THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 335 

CHAPTER IX 

CONTENTS OF THE LITTLE TRUNK — THE LONG-LOST NOTE 

When menny years hev rolled away, 

When we no more are young, 
When other voices may repeat 

The songs that we hev sung, 
When all your youthful beauty fades, 

That Time will not restore, 
Some tender tho'ts may come again 

O days that are no more. 

— Hall. 

r INDING that their visitors had travelled so exten- 
sively, the family gladly listened to some of their 
accounts of lands that to them had never existed, 
excepting to Mrs. Goodwill, who was an educated 
woman and who had taught school several years before 
marrying Mr. Goodwill. The entire circle soon felt that 
these strangers were men of uncommon importance. Espe- 
cially was this so to little Enoch and to Abe, who now 
believed he had gained a powerful ally in his secret purpose. 
So the evening passed too quickly to the majority, and the 
late hour came when Reuben Rover and his friend followed 
their guide to the apartment allotted to them for the night. 
It was the family's "best room," and an air of cheerfulness 
pervaded the place that was felt by the new-comers. 

"This seems the most like home of anything I have 
seen for a score of years," declared the first, as he glanced 
about their surroundings and then deposited the little hair 
trunk, which he had kept with him with watchfulness, upon 
the floor, to sink into a chair himself. 

"I wonder what home seems like," remarked Leonard 
Quiver, drawing his tall, superb form up to its full height 
and until his head almost touched the low ceiling. 

'• Never had a home, did you, Leonard?" 



336 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

As his companion made no reply, he resumed : 

"I suppose I had as good a one as I deserved. But let 
that go. How natural this old room looks to me. You will 
not be surprised if I tell you this is not the first time I have 
been in it. I staid here over night once, more than twenty- 
five years ago. How time has fled, but I do not believe an 
atom has been changed here. Here is the same old-style, 
tall-posted bedstead, piled to the rafters with husks, straw 
and feathers crowded into ticks that seem ready to burst. 
Here are the same straight-backed chairs that make one 
feel as he were in the stocks to sit in them, the small, high 
windows, the fire-place and long, wide mantle. I think the 
deacon's father built this house when he was a young man, 
and the furniture belonged to his grandmother. But it all 
harmonizes well with the straight-laced deacon. We gen- 
erally fit into the grooves intended for us, only sometimes 
I fall to wondering whether the grooves are made for us or 
we for the grooves." 

"Just now I am wondering more how in the name of 
the prophet we are going to face the stingy old deacon in 
the morning without a cent in our pockets." 

"Never cross a bridge until you reach it, old man. 
'Sufficient unto the hour is the evil thereof.' But have you 
no curiosity to know what this trunk that I have lugged 
around like a prize casket until my arms ache contains ? 
Condemned strange I didn't think to ask for the key. No 
doubt the widow had one. If I had a jack-knife to use as 
a' lever. Ha! here is a wooden skewer, made to shell corn 
with, that is pointed enough to act as a wedge." 

By dint of hard work he finally succeeded in entering 
the sharp point of the instrument under the lid, and by 
pressing upward and backward he eventually started the 
lock so the cover flew open. An air of mustiness such as 
would naturally come from a receptacle that had been long 
closed. Reuben Rover had now placed it on the table, and 
as he caught a hasty view of the contents of this ancient 
heirloom, filled to overflowing, he stepped back and, in the 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 337 

impressive, eloquent way of his, exclaimed : 

"Behold, Leonard Quiver, the vagabond that thou art, 
the sealed treasures of another generation, for I'll venture 
my future prospects the hand which closed that lid now 
molders in the dust." 

Within the 'receptacle Quiver saw bundles of old let- 
ters, boxes of small dimensions and dainty patterns, no 
doubt filled with relics, with many miscellaneous articles 
which would require patient overhauling and examination 
to name and describe. Laid loosely on the top, and the 
first to be lifted up somewhat gingerly by the long, slim 
fingers of Reuben Rover was a "stock" that had been worn 
by some one following faithfully the fashion of a hundred 
years before. And then came the collar worn underneath, 
whose sharp corners appearing just above set it off to good 
advantage. Then there came a stock buckle, and a pair of 
silver knee buckles to match. There were, too, a set of 
vest buttons, hollow and formed like a hemisphere, fastened 
to the garment by a slender bar. 

"Links of silver, once binding together the vest of 
some genteel wearer before the days of the Boston Tea 
Party, and now linking the past to the present," remarked 
Reuben Rover, as he held them up in his hand. "What a 
story they might tell were they given the tongue of silver of 
which we hear. Here is something yet more delicate and 
valuable," lifting a small metal box from its place of repose 
and raising its lid. "What have we here ? See, asleep on 
its soft bed of cotton, where it has reposed for a lifetime, lies 
a golden brooch, holding a tiny locket. I open it to gaze into 
a sweet, womanly face. She is kneeling before an altar, 
alive with bright flames, while her hands are uplifted as she 
raises them to deposit on the sacred spot a laurel wreath. 
This may embody love; it may portray penitence for some 
slight sin committed. Surely such a loveiy countenance, 
the very picture of innocence, could not have belonged to 
one guilty of any serious misdemeanor. No, no ! Notice 
the divine grace of the features, the delicacy of the Grecian 



338 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 



drapery. Such a picture makes one ashamed of his 
coarse living. Ha! Here is something more touching 
yet. See ! A string of gold beads, once worn about 
somebody's neck. Whose? This begins to look like a 
treasure-house indeed. Notice how much the beads are 
worn. And see! they were strung on a thread of human 
hair, no doubt from the head of some one loved by the 
wearer. I will lay these aside, and if Mrs. Temple calls for 
them she shall have them, as no doubt they are precious to 
her. Rube Rover, if a vagabond, is not a robber. 

"Now I come to a portfolio filled with sacred personal 
relics." 

'•You have found one of your emotional moods this 
evening," declared his companion, though he heartily felt 
and gave silent acquiescence to all he had said. 

"I feel that I am under some uncommon influence this 
evening, Leonard Quiver. It has been a long time since I 
have felt this mysterious power that has saved my life 
twice, at least. Once as I bent over a campfire in one of 
the valleys of the Ural Mountains, with half a dozen adven- 
turous spirits on our dangerous way to Siberia, when the 
blessed form of my sainted mother appeared to me and 
beckoned earnestly for me to follow her. I was so im- 
pressed that, in spite of the ridicule and remonstrance of my 
companions, I obeyed. She remained with me for three 
days, and until I had placed many miles between me and 
the Russian frontier, when she vanished. I afterwards 
learned that all of my companions perished most miserably 
within three days after I left them. Again, many years 
before that, I was about to go on shipboard, bound to the 
Land of the Midnight Sun from England, when the figure 
of my mother, whom I then supposed living, appeared to 
me and showed me in sign language that it was my duty to 
turn back. For the first time in my life I did so. The ship 
that sailed never reached its haven, and all on board were 
drowned. To-night I feel again that I am under some such 
potent spell, and that my future weal or woe hangs on the 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 339 

magical power or this unseen guide. I wouldn't part with 
this little trunk and its treasures, if they are the mementoes 
of strangers, for a thousand dollars. 

"Here is another relic labelled 'Mother's Ring.' Let 
me handle this gently, lest it crumble away in my hand. 
See! a broken ring lying in a bed of down. But is it 
broken? It seems to have been made in three sections, 
joined by pivots. On this one two hearts are formed, while 
each of the other parts is a hand and fingers, one a woman's 
and the other a man's. By bringing the three sections 
together thus, the hands clasp gently over the united 
hearts, as if to shield them. This must have been a love 
token — an engagement ring worn long and faithfully by the 
recipient. These are her initials, I suppose, 'M. B.' How 
sacredly this has been kept. No doubt Mrs. Temple will 
want this, too. Well she shall have it. Now I find a golden 
snuff box, large and expensive,as if the owner was both well- 
to-do and a great lover of the drug. Ha ! this is marked in 
a plain, bold hand, 'Sylvanus Bidwell.' " 

With these words Reuben Rover stopped his investiga- 
tions and, turning his gaze away from the little trunk and 
its contents, sat a long time in silence, so long in fact that 
his friend grew uneasy, finally saying in an impatient 
tone: 

"That snuff seems to have a powerful effect on you, 
old boy." 

"It has awakened memories that have been long asleep. 
You will not wonder when I tell you that an ancestor of 
mine was named Sylvanus Bidwell. I wonder if these let- 
ters will throw any light on these heirlooms? What is 
this?" laying aside a bundle of letters grown yellow and 
brittle with age, while the faded ribbon binding them 
together slipped off, and they fell promiscuously into the 
bottom of the trunk. Without stopping to re-arrange them 
the investigator held up to the light of the tallow candle a 
long, narrow piece of paper, yellowed with age and covered 
with writing in a fine, lawyer-like hand. As he glanced 



340 THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 

over it hastily, Reuben Rover exclaimed in a tone of 
triumph : 

"By the great white elephant ? this is worth all the 
rest. Pinch me, Leonard Quiver, that I may know if I am 
awake or dreaming." 

"I can tell you that without putting you to the pain," 
replied his impatient companion. "You have been acting 
like one in a dream for several minutes. Speak out, man, 
and tell me if you have found a note from your old sweet- 
heart which sues for forgiveness, or is it your sentence to 
the gallows?" 

"More wonderful than either, man alive ! Here is the 
little bit of paper which has been a bone of contention for 
nearly twenty years, and which men have searched for high 
andlow. I am armed now for the battle." 

"Still you keep me in the dark. Explain or lose my 
friendship." 

"As if that were worth a dozen words. Do not mind 
the trifles that fall from my tongue like the water of a 
brook falling down a rocky incline. Leonard Quiver, 
behold in that piece of paper the long-lost note of Sylvanus 
Bidwell, and which his son willed to me. It was given for 
the forty thousand dollars loaned the town nearly twenty 
years ago. This is the claim Tristam Bidwell made over to 
me just before he died, for the favors I did him in his last 
days. He was a relative of our family, too, which made it 
very proper for him to do so. As the note was lost his 
claim was not looked upon as very valuable." 

"Is it now?" asked Quiver, as he drew nearer. 

"I should say it was, old man. Take its value out of 
the town and I wouldn't give much for what there is left. 
Let me give you the facts briefly : 

"About twenty-five years ago the town voted and 
raised ten per cent of its valuation to help build a railroad. 
This road was built but it immediately failed, it was claimed, 
through mismanagement and malicious neglect. In conse- 
quence the town sued the company for damages, and lost.' 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 341 

This lawsuit with the money first raised cost the town 
something like twenty-five per cent of its valuation, which 
at that time was $400,000. In order to meet their obliga- 
tions the town was forced to borrow ten per cent of its 
valuation, or $40,000. This money was borrowed on a note 
of one Sylvanus Bidwell, a cousin of Squire Newbegin's 
wife, my mother. Soon after it was reported that this man 
was dead, and then that the note was lost. At least nothing 
was paid on it, and the claim still stands against the town. 
With its accrued interest at six per cent this amount in 
round numbers is $115,000. Is not that a fish worth 
catching?" 

"But a note outlaws in six years," said Quiver. 

'•This one was executed before a notary public and is 
good for twenty years. You see we did not begin action 
any too soon." 

"And you are in earnest ?" 

"Doubly so. I came here with proof of that note in 
my pocket, but never really intending to press my claim if 
the governor received me back into the fold as a repentant 
prodigal should be received. I was willing to forgive and 
forget, in form if not in fact, for the memory of the night 
that he sent me out into the world on the toe of his boot 
still rankles in the tomb of thought. I put salt on the 
wound to keep it sore that I might not forget. Ay, Leon- 
ard Quiver, if I stand before you to-night a penniless beg- 
gar — an outcast unknown to those who should be my 
friends, denied by my parent, to-morrow I will shake the 
very rafters of the old town until they fall!" 

"Is the old town worth the effort it will cost?" asked 
his more conservative companion. 

"Is the fool worth his hire? It may be not. But 
there is recompense beyond the estimation of the miser 
who hoards his gold. I am in deadly earnestness. Once 
the die is cast there will be no turning back. I shall burn 
the bridges behind me. It will be a royal battle between 
father and son ; between a Newbegin and the man who was 



342 



THE SHADOWS MEN FOLLOW 



never beaten. Let me see, the town has shrunk in valu- 
ation so now it stands at 5250,000. My claim will call for 
nearly half of this. If they undertake to put up a lawsuit, 
as Aaron Newbegin will, I would not give much for what 
there will be left. Oh, do not think I am heartless, though 
I will break down the haughty spirit of the man who has 
disowned me or die in the attempt. As you know, half in 
in amusement, I forwarded the dead letter of Tristam Bid- 
well, but the spirit of levity is over. Are you with me?" 

"Till, as you say, the rafters of heaven fall!" 

"Good ! there will be rare sport before we are done. 
Give me your hand." 

Then and there the twain elapsed hands, giving their 
pledges to stand together, while one of the "guardians 
of the town," little dreaming of the plot being concocted 
over his head, slept the sleep of the believer in his own 
faithfulness. 

"I shall strike while the iron is hot," declared Free- 
land Newbegin, as we shall now call him, "and before we 
sleep a notice to send the selectmen must be prepared to be 
sent to-morrow. Here is a piece of paper that will do. If I 
only had some ink and a pen. Ay, my township for a 
pen!" 

"I saw a pen and ink bottle on the sitting room table," 
said Quiver. "By waiting until the folks are asleep I will 
slip down and get them. I will also get a little flour from 
the pantry, and a few drops of water." 

"Good! You need not wait long, for I fancy I hear the 
old dotard already swinging the cudgel of holy dreams." 

A few minutes later Leonard Quiver accomplished his 
purpose and,having seen the missive put into desirable shape 
and the pen and ink returned, the plotters laid down to rest 
and dream of such success as they did not dare to antici- 
pate in their waking hours. 

(Begun in the July number; to be continued) 



^ije Wtytt Mo*** 

A Legend of the Headwaters of Dead River 

By Jean X. Bonneau 



rfeV^NLY a few years since environed by the solitude of 
)0^« the Coos wilds, but now reached by frequent visi- 
}££?%. tors from the busy world surrounding the isolated 
spot, lies a sheet of crystal water known by half a 
dozen names, each expressive of some emotion stirred by 
its irresistible charm or some memory clinging to its beauti- 
ful shores. As pure and innocent as the place seems, much 
of its romance is tinged with tragedy, the fact proving that 
no spot is so remote that it wholly escapes the shadows of 
human sorrow. 

Not long since it was my fortune to penetrate to this 
region in companionship with one whose splendid figure, 
crowned with thick black curls touched here and there with 
silver, made the wild beauty of the place complete. His 
accent at once pronounced him to be of French extraction, 
a descendant of one of the early families of Gascony which 
had found its way to the valley of the St. Lawrence in the 
days of Frontenac. His name was Louis Paulin and he 
had been my guide upon many a hunting trip. He was 
reticent but always faithful. As I grew to know him bet- 
ter, I would have trusted him with my dearest possession. 
A trace of sadness was ever in his disposition, accentuated 
by a habit of repeating his last sentences and drawing them 
out with a melancholy cadence. 

As we approached the lake, I had noticed a growing 
uneasiness and absence of mind on his part which aroused 
my curiosity, but I refrained from questioning him and 
remarked upon the beauty of the lake. 

343 



344 THE WHITE MOOSE 

"Yaas, 'tis ver' beautiful," he answered. "I see eem 
many year, I know." 

"You have been here often?" I exclaimed. 

"Ver offayn," he replied. "I young man, ver' young 
man by dese lak\ I cut de wood to sell; I use pile it for to 
dry right dese place, and haul it by dese same ol' road, 
many day — jus' so many day." 

After the evening meal, as we sat smoking our pipes 
around the camp fire, I asked Louis the names of three 
peaks that stood out above the lake menacingly, shoulder to 
shoulder. 

"One party come here," said Louis. "One young girl, 
she say: call mountains 'Tree Guardsmens.' 'Cause why — 
dey proteck de lak'." 

The snow-covered tops, turned gory by the setting sun, 
were reflected in the clear little lake. Large and small fish 
jumped into the crimson air from the crimson water. 

"What is the name of this lake ?" I inquired of my 
silent companion. "Surely it has a name." 

"Yaas, 'tis call by some de 'Spireet Lak',' by some else 
de 'Lak' de White Moose,' and dat las' is de name. Dis 
lak' belong eem de White Moose. He come down ovair 
across some strange times to drink. Engin say he breeng 
trouble to who see eem, but I teenk not. He is all white 
lak de moon on de vvatair. He come not often, oh, ver' 
seldom." 

"What !" cried I, "is he a ghost moose?" 

"Yaas, jes' so — a ghost moose." 

"Louis Paulin," I said, "tell me about it. Did you ever 
see this white moose?" 

"Twice I see eem. Fust time I been fishin' up de 
stream wut comes into de lak' undair de Tree Guards- 
mens — " 

Then turning to me he said : 

"You my f ren' ; you want hear boutin' it ? I want tell. 
Feel lak must tell some ones, when I see dese lak once 
. more, an' you been good fren' Louis Paulin. 



THE WHITE MOOSE 345 

"Oh, de beeges' feesh up in dat leetle run watair place ! 
Me an' my pardnair, Joe Pablo, was get lot of feesh, and 
was come 'ome so 'appy. Sun go jes lak dese night. 
Feesh jump, jump and we float 'long de watair. Bine-bye 
we 'ear callin', — far calin' jes lak de bird, or somet'ing, only 
callhY callin'. 'Dat soun' strange,' I say to Joe. 'Ver' 
strange,' says eem. Bine-bye, de moon she come and mak' 
de shadows on de watair, an' down ovair across on de bank, 
jes out of de tree, step a gret beeg moose, all white, an' he 
eyes shine white. He toss de haid up, and den down — 
look lak he beckon me to come. I grab de oar and row for 
eem. Joe, he scare, he say : 'You damn fool, stop dat !' 
He shake so de teet' dey rattle, jes lak dat, dey raat-tle. 
But I was detarmeened, an' I row ; he try for hoi' me — no 
use — I jes row, an' de gret white moose, eem beckon an' 
beckon with gret beeg haid. At las' Joe he so scare he 
say: 'You damn fool!' and he jump ovair de boat, an' 
sweem for to-dair side de lak', an' I row on. 

"Bine-bye, white moose fade an' fade. When I got 
ver' close, eem gone, I was deesgusted, and sware, and 
commence to row back, when I 'ear cry, right on de bank — 
a long cry lak de baby mak'. I t'ink fust, be careful, de 
cougar, he cry dat away. Some time by, I row slow — close, 
an' see de small child lie on de bank. I row queek and 
peek eem up. Eem cry till I peek eem up, den she look at 
me an' smile an' put eem airms ronn' de neck of me. 

"I row back queek, for I commence fear Joe no sweem 
so well as reach todair side, but I row fas' an' run up undair 
de long grass dese side, but I row fas t an' run up undair de 
long grass dese side. Dere set my pardnair ver' white an 
scare'. I say: 'Joe, hello Joe,' jes lak dat, 'hello, Joe!' 
He run down to me an' say: 'Where 'e gone, dat moose?' 
I say : 'Dunno, but he lef dis fur us,' an' I peek up dat 
chile an' han' eem to Joe Pablo, an' fasten de boat. 

"Dat chile, she smile at Joe, an' talk some strange kine 
talk, we no can tell eem say. But my pardnair, he say : 



346 THE WHITE MOOSE 

'Oh, Louis, eem is beautiful for sartain,' jes like dat, for, 
sartain.' 

"Dat chile was a girl, an' she was all wrap in a white 
shawl with small white-beaded moccasins on eem feet. 
But we can tell not where she come from. 

"I say : 'Joe, shall we tak' eem down de town an' gif 
eem to some womans ?' jes' like dat, 'some woinans ?' He 
turn red an' say: 'No, eem stay by us,' an' eem did. 

"First, we scare' some peoples take she from us, an' 
we don' tell 'boutin' eem. Bine-bye dat chile need clode. 
I say : 'Joe, go borry from your aunt wut has leetle girl. 
Joe say he shame. He say: 'Family laugh — all de boys 
laugh when eem know.' Den I say: 'Well, go down an' 
buy some clode for leetle boy — dey won' laugh at dat. Tell 
eem I got leetle brodair with me. Dat chile mus' have 
clode.' 

"So we dress eem lak a boy, jes so, lak a boy. 

"Eem was two or tree yer ol' when I fin' eem, but dat 
leetle girl eem grow fast. 

"When we cut de tree, we tak' eem along, an' dat chile 
seeng an' climb de tree an' play. Bine-bye eem can climb 
de talles' tree, an' run lak de coyot, shoot an' sweem. 

"She grows tall, straight an' ver' beautiful. Her mair 
ver' black, oh, so black I nevair see, an curl all roun' by 
eem face. Her eye ver' large, an' so dark lak she teenks 
somet'ings far off. Eem face ver' white, but de leeps, eem 
leeps ver' red, so red as de kinakaneek, jes like dat, de 
kinakaneek. 

"With Joe she run an' play an' seeng, but when eem 
hurt or tired, den come to me. De birds dat chile talk lak, 
an* dey all come. De rabbits an' de squirrels jes run all 
ovair eem. 

"Some nights lak dese she row up to de leetle run 
watair streem, an' stan' up in de boat, an' push eem along 
by de bank with de oar, an' seeng. 

"One time I say : 'Chile, your hair grow so long when 
de people see you dey teenk you leetle girl,' an' I laugh jes 



THE WHITE MOOSE 347 

lak dat, 'teenk you leetle girl.' But eem scream an grab 
eem hair an' say: 'No, no, no! My hair, don't cut off my 
hair. So we don' cut it off, an' it grow ver' long. 

"One time eem out on de lak rowin'; eem call to me : 
'Louis Paulin,' an' ovair by dem Tree Guardsmens de echo 
say. 'Louis Paulin.' Eem listen ver' astonish, den call 
again: 'Louis Paulin,' and de echo ansair. Den she say: 
'Joe Pablo.' Back from de Tree Guardsmens comes : 'Joe 
Pablo.' 

"Den eem row in de bank scare', an' say : 'Wut dat — 
dat call?' 

"'Dat echo,' I say, jes lak dat; 'echo,' 

"She teenk long time. 'Does eem live by de Tree 
Guardsmens?' she say. 'Yaas,' I say, 'she a spireet leeve 
in dere. She don' hurt nobody.' Den she say slo' lak : 
'Louis, wut my name?' 

"We always call eem de chile, or sometimes Marie or 
sometimes Chita, or sometimes odairs. We not good at 
namin'. 

"I say : 'Oh, you got no one name — lots of name,' I 
say, I was so embarrass. She row out on lak' again an' she 
call: "Louis, Louis Paulin,' an echo ansair de same. 'Joe 
Pablo, Joe Pablo.' Den she call loud an clear: 'Echo.' 
'Echo' come back ovair de watair. 'Wut my name — echo?' 
Name 'Echo' come back. Den she laugh an' call loud : 
'Echo Paulin Pablo, dat my name.' 'Name,' say de echo. 
Eem row back an' say: 'Louis, dat my name! You hear 
her? She say my name de same. I am call Echo — Echo 
Paulin Pablo.' 

"Joe he laugh an' joke boutin' it, but she laugh de 
same all de time. Bine-bye, aldough we fought eem foolish- 
ness, we call dat girl 'Echo Paulin Pablo.' 

"When we haul de wood to de towns to sell, we tak 
eem along, an say she my youngair brodair. She ver' 
silent-lak in de town, an' jes watch de odair cheeldren, not 
play with dem. One time a man say: 'Wut your name, 
boy V an' eem say : Echo Paulin Pablo,' queek-lak. I hear, 



348 THE WHITE MOOSE 

an' I sort of de scare. She sais : 'Pablo' de las', an' I tell 
she my youngair brodair. But she sais it so queek, de man 
not understan'. 

"'Oh,' says dat man, slo-lak: 'Well you air for sartin 
mos' extraordinare beautiful boy,' jes lak dat, 'beautiful 
boy.' 

"One time I say : 'Echo, you mus' go to de school, an' 
learn lak de odair cheeldren.' 'No,' she says, *I weel not 
go/ 'Oh, yaas,' says I, 'you mus' know somet'ing 'bout de 
read an' write.' 'I weel not go,' says she, an' eem cry. 
Den Joe Pablo he say : 'I'll be teachin' you to de read an' 
write; don' cry no more.' Joe, he know more dan I know 
boutin' dat. He go to de Mission school. Well, dey com- 
mence, an' in de evenin' when de work done, dey get into 
de boat an' float roun' a-learnin'. Eem learn might' fas,' 
an' jes while boutin' it. Bine-bye she ask me for to buy 
some book. I say : 'Yaas,' an' Joe Pablo say : 'Yaas.' 
Bine-by Joe can teach eem no more. She say : 'Joe, learn 
me dis, an' Joe, learn me dat, but Joe says : 'Cannot — 
dunno,' jes lak dat, 'dunno.' Den she do de readin' alone. 

"One time eem come to me an' say : 'Louis, am I girl 
or boy ?' I say : 'You leetle girl.' Den she laugh an' say: 
'Leetle ? Why, I'm beeg, Louis ; I mus' be boutin' feef- 
teen year' ol\ She frow de airm roun' my neck an' say : 
'Louis, le' me wear de dress lak de odair girl. I wan' dress 
with ruffle on.' Jes lak dat, 'with ruffle on.' 

"So I say to Joe dat night : 'I go to de town an' won' 
be back till de mornin'.' Den I go to de store an' I hunt 
for dress with ruffle, but I dunno boutin it, an' de clerk — 
she was a young girl — she ask me eef eem could be help so 
pleasant. I tell her fin' all t'ings for me. I pay de bill an' 
I get back boutin de daylight, I call up dese road: 'Echo 
— Echo Paulin Pablo,' an' eem come run lak a deer. I say: 
'Here dat dress an' all de odair.' She cry, she so joyous, 
an' she say: 'Louis, don' you tell Joe ; let me to de surprise 
eem.' Pretty soon Joe he call dat breakfas' be ready, an' 
he say: 'Where dat chile?' Den I call: 'Echo, Echo.' 






. 






THE WHITE MOOSE 349 

Pretty soon we hear de laugh ; we turn roun' an' dere stan' 
de young lady, or a spireet or somet'ing, may bees a fairy — 
oh, yaas, she look a fairy, she was mos' beautiful. She 
turn de red an' laugh an' hide eem face, but Joe he was 
terrible surprise — he jes look lak he scare. He bow down 
low an' hoi' out both de nan' an say : 'Ah, de Mamselle 
Echo, welcome.' 

"But I long for de boy dat gone. Some time aftair she 
wear de boy clode, but nevair when Joe aroun'. Eem go 
with me many de time as de boy, but I no can forget it 
defreent, an' she grow more beautiful. 

"When she with Joe, my pardnair, she put de flower in 
de hair, an wear de ruffle dress. 

"Bine-bye, I understan' de all. I in love with Echo; 
an, she — she love Joe Pablo, an' Joe he don' care. He love 
eem, but no "lak dat way. He teenk eem little chile yet. 

"One time Joe go to de store in de town, an' see dat 
lady clerk. Den he go often, mos' evair night. Echo she 
seet on de bank, so still an' silent an' so sad I feel de heart 
of me break. I want to say: 'Oh, don' care boutin eem — I 
love you.' But I dare not. Eem look across de lak' with 
de black hair roun' de face, all curl an' so ver' long. I look 
at her so sad, so lone. 

"Sometime, eem do de read to me from some book. 
Sometime she read read boutin de love. I look at eem, an' 
she grow ver' red an' den I teenk she understan'. Often 
she. come an put de han' on my hair, an' say sof lak : 'Poor 
Louis Paulin.' Jes lak dat, 'Poor Louis Paulin.' But she 
grow ver' t'in an' I t'ink Joe perhaps noteece. I wan' 
strangle eem — keel eem. She understan', an' she say: 
'No, Louie, for de sake of me, no.' An' I got always to 
obey her. But sometime she get ver' tired an' weary ; she 
come cry on my knee. Sometime she wan' me to telf her 
how de white moose he geeve her to me. 'Dis my lak,' she 
say: 'I nevair leeve it.' 

"But she get de whiter an' whiter, t'inner an' t'inner. 
I scare. I say : 'Let me tak' you away to de town, to de 



350 THE WHITE MOOSE 

doctair.' She smile, sad-lak an' say: 'No, I need no doc- 
tair.' An' dat damn fool, Joe Pablo, my pardnair, he jus' 
go evair evenin' to see de lady clerk. 

"Sometime Echo go up de road an' wait for Joe to 
come back. Wait an' wait! I get de despair. I say: I 
weel tell Joe, you do dat again — I tell eem all' Dat mak' 
her de stop dat. 

"One night Joe he come home an' seeng t'rough de 
wood, an' he say : 'Oh, de congratulate ; I goin' to marry 
de lady clerk.' He t'row de hat in de air an' shout. I turn 
to Echo — she fall white on de grass. 'Oh,' I cry, so scare. 
'You damn fool, Joe Pablo, see what you have mak'. You 
have broke de heart of eem. Jes lak dat, 'broke de heart 
of eem.' Joe turn ver' pale an' say: 'Wut you mean?' I 
say : 'I goin' keel you, dat wut I mean.' I raise her up an' 
she ope' de eye, an' den turn to me an' cry : 'You tol' eem> 
you tol' eem, Louis Paulin — I nevair forgeeve you.' Jes 
lak dat, 'nevair.' She try de get up an' walk back de cabin, 
but I help. She try mak' me stop help, but I weel not 
stop. 

"Joe Pablo he say low: 'Sacre! I not unerstan'. 'Fore 
God I not unerstan'.' Eem face ver' white. He turn an' 
ride so fas' down de road. When dat girl hear de horse 
feet go farder an farder, she t'row hersel' down on de grass 
by de cabin door an' sob : 'Oh, you tol' eem, you tol' eem ; 
I nevair forgeeve you.' I seet down 'longside an' beg eem 
to forgeeve me. I 'bout wild — I dunno wut to do. Bine- 
bye, I get despair. I say : 'Ah, why did you fall de uncon- 
scious when eem say eem goin' to be marry. You no do 
dat, eem nevair know. I t'ought you dead, dat why I ^ejl 
eem.' Den she crawl slow up an' get into my airm an' cry. 
Eem was still only leetle girl, perhaps boutin seventeen 
year ol\ She say : 'Poor Louis Paulin.' An' I smood de 
black hair. She ver' white an' sad. I ver' white an' sad. 

"De moon eem come up fore long and shine on de 
watair. 'Poor Louis Paulin,' she say. Den she sob an' 
cry, an' call: 'Joe Pablo, Joe Pablo.' An' de echo call 



THE WHITE MOOSE 351 

loud from de Tree Guardsmens: 'Joe Pablo.' She call sof- 
lak, 'Louis Paulin,' an de echo come sof . Den she raise 
an' cry wid de sorrow in de voice: 'Oh, Echo ! Poor Echo 
Paulin Pablo.' An' de echo come sad ovair de watair: 
Poor Echo Paulin Pablo.' 

"Den she say, low-lak : 'Louis, I goin' leave you. 7 
Jes lak dat, 'I goin' leave you.' 'Oh, forgeeve me, Louis, 
my kin', good frien', forgeeve me.' I choke all up an' I say 
'I have not to forgeeve you. Dere is not'ing. But you 
don' leave me Echo — oh, no.' 'Oh, yaas,' she say, 'you will 
nevair see me no more.' Den I hoi' her tight, an' I cry: 
'No, no!' Loud and hard, an' de echo cry: 'No, no!' 'Oh, 
poor Louis,' she say, 'I goin' leave you forevair — say you 
forgeeve me.' I say, 'Be good daughtair; go in de cabin an 
sleep. All weel be well in de mornin'. Good daughtair, 
don' leave eem fader.' She smile sof'-lak, an' walk in de 
cabin. I seet on de bank an 7 watch de moon, an, wish I 
dead mans. 

"Bine-bye, I hear de step behin' me, an' de airm come 
roun' my neck, an' eem kees me all de face ovair, den slip 
away queek, an' I see she dress in de boy clode. I say : 
'Where you go?' Eem say: 'Oh, forgeeve me.' 

"She get in de boat an' push out. I see her plain 
in de moonlight. De face so white with de long 
black hair all ovair. She stan' up an' push in de watair 
with de oar. Den I look across de lak', an' dere stan' dat 
white moose a'beckon with the great white haid lak he 
beckon me dat night. He shine an' shine an' look lak mist 
roun eem. Dat boat slip toward eem with dat girl in de 
moonlight. I hear de call : 'Oh, Louis Paulin, forgeeve 
me,' an' de echo say: 'Forgeeve me.' De cloud come an 
all deesappear. 

"I hunt all dat night on de watair, hunt an' hunt, an' 
call 'Echo Paulin Pablo! Echo! Echo!' an de echo de 
only ansair. I cry : 'I forgeeve you ; oh, come back,' an' I 
cry loud. I cry lak I cry now, an' I hunt an' hunt an' hunt. 
In de mornin' I come back to de land an' lie down on de 



352 AT THE END OF THE YEAR 

grass an' pray I die. De sun come out an' dat oY boat he 
float back empty." 

Louis buried his face in his hands. 

I dashed the tears from my eyes. 

Across the still, silvery waters came the mournful call 
of the loon. 



Bt the enb of tfje fear 

By Elizabeth Alden Curtis 

Love, the years, the freighted years, 
With their laughter and their tears, 

How they fly on silent wings. 
Till the gifts one season brings 

Are but mem'ries, are but dreams 
In life's seaward-going streams. 

Springtime goeth summer questing; 
Autumn is but summer resting; 

And the hale old winter time 

Only autumn cased in rime. 
Thus upon their rounds they go, 

Apple bloom to falling snow. 



Cfje alitor'* TOnboto 



Again we come to the close of a volume, our second, 
and the ei.d of our first year. This has been a trial year 
with us, and the result has more than met our expectations. 
While we have received the highest words of commenda- 
tion from our readers in regard to the quality and quantity 
of our magazine, with our past experience and our increased 
means, we can promise better things to come. The Edi- 
torial Lookout points to some of these, but no prophet on 
our staff can foretell all that is to come. In this connec- 
tion we appeal to you for your support. If you are a 
native of the Old Granite State, a citizen, or in any manner 
interested in its history and welfare, can you afford to miss 
the monthly visits of its staunchest and ablest historical 
friend ? 



David S. Barry, in the New England Magazine for 
November, says in "The Loyalty of the Senate" : "Not 
one in ten of the senators to-day has ever been suspected 
of evil, much less accused and convicted. There are black 
sheep in the senate as elsewhere, and it is the noise they 
make in being exposed and driven forth that is responsible 
largely for the public suspicion of the body as a whole. 
There are as few thieves as millionaires in the senate. Col- 
lectively it is a body of poor and honest and relatively able 
men. There are a few there whose fortunes have been dis- 
honestly made and others whose intelligence is not of a 
high order. But it is equally true that the poor and honest 
senators far outnumber the rich and dishonest and that 
there has never been a time since the foundation of the 
government when the senate could boast a greater number 
of able men, proportionally, than are here to-day. 

353 



$ofcsr anb duertesf 

The Nestor of the Farms, in his excellent article upon 
"Wild Pigeons" (see page 193), says that he has found no 
evidence to show that they were in New England in the 
days of the pioneers, and asks if any one can throw any 
light on the subject. Permit me to add that the first set- 
tlers of the country bordering on the Ohio River found 
them numerous in that region. According to the accounts 
of these pioneers they used to disappear suddenly early in 
the summer and reappear as mysteriously in the fall Is it 
therefore unreasonable to suppose that they migrated to 
New England for that period, just as wild geese and others 
of the feathered families drifted back and forth between 
the sunny south and the northland. These migrations 
seem to have begun about 1790 and stopped in 1870. It is 
claimed that a few are still seen in New Hampshire, but 
personally I cannot vouch for the truth of this. Should be 
pleased to hear from others. 



G. W. B. 



Replies 



6. During the reign of Queen Elizabeth, members of 
the Church of England who had formed their ideas of 
church government from Calvin were persecuted, and then, 
in 1564, they received the name of "Puritans." They were 
called thus because of the gravity of their manner, the 
austerity of their lives and the severe precision of their 
judgment. On account of the persecution against them 
they left their native land to found homes in the New 
World and, before a single Dutchman had visited America, 
they or their ancestors settled this country, taking out their 
patent, which covered the country from Acadia to Carolina, 
under the name of Virginia. 

Rev. Dr. Leonard Bacon of New Haven said : 

Laws, Freedom, truth and faith in God 

Came with those exiles from o'er the waves. 

And where their pilgrim feet have trod, 
The God they trusted guards their graves. 

America owes a debt she can never pay to those sturdy 
New Englanders. 

G. W. B. 
354 



Granite ^tate jPaga^ne 

jSI £Ulont\)lp Publication t . 

Vol. II. OCTOBER, 1906. No. 4. 

GEORGE WALDO BROWNE Managing Editor 



Terms:— Per Annum $1.50 

Eight Months 1.00 

Single Copy 15 

To Authors. — The editor respectfully solicits contributions relating to state history, biography and legend 
from those who are in possession of any incidents or narrative of local or general interest. Any one not a regular 
writer, and not situated to put his notes into readable form, is requested to send the rough draft and we will under- 
take to put it into manuscript for the printer. Every article received will be carefully read and returned, if found 
unavailable. 

Address plainly: Editor Granite State Magazine, 

GRANITE STATE PUBLISHING CO., 
No. 64 Hanover Street, <- Manchester, N. H. 

Entered as second-class matter, December 21, 1905, at the post office at Manchester, New Hampshire, under 

the Act of Congress of March 3, 1879. 

Printed by The Ruemely Press, 143 Hanover St., Manchester, N, H. 

Cable of Contents 

Tenting on the Old Camp-Ground (Song, with Portrait) Walter Kittredge 179 

A New Hampshire Artist. (Five Illustrations) William H. Huse 183 

October Voices. (Poem) Louise Lewin Matthews 187 

New Hampshire's Daughters. (Seven Portraits) Gertrude Jones Bartlett 188 

New Hampshire Home Song. (Poem) John J. Loud 192 

Pigeon Snaring. (Illustrated) Nestor of the Farms 193 

Merrimack by the River. (Twenty Illustrations) A Staff Contributor 199 

Tell It Now. (Poem) ...£. H. Sanborn 226 

The Shadows Men Follow. (Serial) George Waldo Browne 227 

Autum nal Tints. (Poem) George Bancroft Griffith 234 

The Editor's Window The Editor 235 

Notes and Queries 236 



4£&ttortal Hoofcout 



This number of the Granite State Magazine is unavoidably late, 
owing to difficulties and delays in getting some of the material for illus- 
tration. We are glad to say that the November number is well advanced, 
and we see no reason why it will not be mailed before the middle of the 
month. 



n 



GRANITE STATE MAGAZINE 



g YEARS 

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PRO<# ESS 
IN ASSET 5 

AND 
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TO s^ 
POLICY 
HOLDERS 



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EDITORIAL LOOKOUT 111 

Speaking of the forthcoming number reminds us that we have 
some exceptionally good articles awaiting the space for their appearance. 
One of these is an article by a new contributor to the Granite State 
Magazine, descriptive of the first illustrated paper ever printed in this 
country, if not in the world. Frederic Gleason has had the credit of 
being tho pioneer in this respect, but a New Hampshire man led him by 
nearly five years. This article alone will be worth the price of the 
magazine. 

"The True Ruel Durkee" is the title of a carefully written sketch 
of the farmer and political worker, whose life and character is at this 
time a subject for discussion, owing to the sudden prominence given his 
name by one of our leading novelists. This article will be illustrated 
with portraits and a view of the old homestead. 

Mr. E. J. Burnham's sketch of Major Andrew McClary has been 
crowded out of this number, but it will come as soon as we can find 
space. The same explanation applies to Mr. Chalmers' "Congregation- 
alists in New Hampshire." We are also having sketches of the other 
religious denominations in the state. 

THE GILNOCKIE PINE 
By Rev. John Thorpe 

The Gilnockie pasture pine 

Is a fav'rite spot of mine, 

Near to "Birch Pine Rock" it stands, 

And extensive view commands. 

Of the far-off Sandwich Dome, 
Ossipee, Red Hill, near home, 
Belknap Mountain, Alton Bay, 
Launches, steamers on the way 

To The Weirs and Wolfborough, 
Touching islands as they go, 
Touching lovely Meredith, 
Where the common name is Smith. 

Center Harbor, bound by hills, 
Garnet Hill my nature thrills, 
As no other hill around ; 
There my muse has often found 

"Tongues in trees," as Shakespeare says, 
"Books in running brooks," and lays 

For my sermons, in the stones, 

Lakes and mountains, dead men's bones. 

"Good in everything" I see, 
Round the Winnipesaukee. 
E'en the ant hills, near me rife, 
Lessons teach of busy life. 



Vlll GRANITE STATE MAGAZTNTT 



NOW AT 25 HANOVER STREET 

Opposite Keith's Theater 
NEW STORE NEW STOCK 

Books Books Books 

THE MOST COMPLETE STOCK IN THE STATE 
BLHNK BOOKS 

and Office Stationery a Specialty. 

A choice line of 

WRITING PHPERS 

by the pound or in boxes. 

REMEMBER THE NUMBER 

25 flANOVER STREET 

opposite keith's theater Manchester, x. h. 



LITERARY NOTES . V 

Hiterarp Heabfg 

With Rogers' Rangers. By G. Waldo Browne. Illustrated by L. J, Bridgeman. 
Tall 12mo, cloth. L. C. Page & Co., Boston, Publishers. Price, $1.25. 

This book is the fourth and last in the series of "Woodranger Tales," by this author. 
These works, like the "Leatherstocking Tales" of J. Fenimore Cooper, combine historical 
information relating to pioneer days in America with interesting adventures in the back- 
woods. While the same characters are continued through the series, each volume is com- 
plete in itself. The leading characters are the Stark brothers, William and John, Robert 
Rogers, Col. John Goffe and, that mysterious and noble central figure, The Woodranger. 

This final volume fully maintains the deep interest of the preceding books and proves 
a fitting and happy climax to the fascinating story of the exiled hero. The reunion of the 
long-separated husband and wife is a word-picture long to be remembered by the reader. 
The scene of the story is laid principally around and about the historic shores of Lake 
George, and it covers in an historical sense the French and Indian War. 

The Camp on Letter K. By Clarence B. Burleigh. Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman. 
i2mo, cloth. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Boston, Price, $1.50. 

This attractive volume deals with the adventures and experiences of two very active 
beys in the wilds of Aroostook. This book is the initial number of a prospective series to 
be called the "Raymond Benson Series." The tone of this story is of that healthy sort 
that no parent need feel afraid to have it read by the son or daughter into whose hands it 
may fall. Compounded of athletics, hunting, farming and adventures with smugglers, there 
is a sufficient variety of matter to hold the interest of the reader from beginning to end. 
Mr. Burleigh, who is a Maine man, seems to have taken up the mantle worn so long and 
gracefully by the Rev. Elijah Kellogg, and it is easy to prophecy that his popularity is cer- 
tain to equal that of the other if he writes as good stories for the future volumes as "The 
Camp on Letter K" proves to be. 

Whether or not Boston is still the literary center of the country is a much disputed 
question, but the metropolis of New England at least continues to be the greatest producer 
of books for boys and girls. The fall list of the leading publishers of that city contain 
from four to twenty juvenile titles, many by authors who endeared themselves with young 
readers about a generation ago. The firm of Little, Brown & Co., who are the publishers 
of the stories of Louisa M. Alcott, probably the most popular juvenile books of the day, 
will issue twenty new books designed for young readers. Among these is "A Sheaf of 
Stories," by "Susan Coolidge," comprising twelve hitherto uncollected stories by the late 
Sarah C. Woolsey (better known by her pen name, "Susan Coolidge") who died in April 
1905. 

The President of Quex. By Helen M. Winslow. Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs. 
i2tno, cloth. Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., Publishers, Boston. Price, $1.25. 

Miss Winslow has entered a comparatively new field in dealing with women's clubs 
as the foundation for her admirable novel of social life. With the experience of a trained 
writer, she shows the spirit of earnestness and worthy endeavor accompanying the modern 
club movement and writes a book that will be read with pleasure outside of clubdom as 
well as within the ranks. "The President of Quex" is a most pleasant character and imme- 
diately enlists the interest of the reader and leads her or him (for no man should fail to 
to read this, though it was written for women) on with a rapt attention that is not easy to 
be thrown off by the most indifferent follower. The development of her character from 



GRANITE STATE MAGAZINE 



THE "IBE/IL" SELECBTI0NS 

For Readings and Recitations. 

Compiled by A. ARDELLE NOURSE 

, * The " Ideal " Selections bring before the public a series of new readings and recitations which will furnish 
Hterary entertainment of any kind, together with a few old favorites whose excellence is such that they are always 
acceptable. In the compilation of these books great care has been exercised to provide for the needs of the school- 
room and for the wants of the amateur and professional reader. 

.Published by THE HINTS PUBLISHING AND SUPPLY CO 53-57 Bible House. New York. 
On Sale at Goodman's Book Store, Hanover St., Manchester, N. H. 



The New Hampshire School of Oratory 
and Conservatory of Music 

NO. 1 ALBERT STREET MANCHESTER, N. H, 

Will Open October 8, 1906 

For Information Address A. ARDELLE NOURSE. Secretary 



FIRST-CLASS W RRANTED 

NURSERY STOCK 

Our stock comprises all varieties of Fruit and Ornamental 
Trees, Rose Bushes and Flowering Shrubs. 

E* D* Colburn, General Agent 

FOR FIRST NATIONAL NURSERIES 
73 Orange Street Manchester, N. H. 



LITERARY NOTES YT1 

loneliness and weakness to joyous activity and strength is a study to be followed with great 
profit. 

The fall announcements of Little, Brown & Co., the Boston publishers, contain sixty 
titles, including new editions. Among the illustrated holiday books are Miss Lilian Whit- 
ing's "The Land of Enchatment, from Pike's Peak to the Pacific"; "Literary By-Paths in 
Old England, by Henry C. Shelley, editor of "The Centenary Edition of the Songs of 
Burns"; ''Through the Gates of the Netherlands," by Mary E. Waller, author of "The 
Wood-Carver of 'Lympus"; "The Wonders of the Colorado Desert" (Southern California), 
by George Wharton James ; and another handsome book of fables for old and young, by 
Laura E. Richards, entitled "The Silver Crown." 

Other new fall publications include : "Mars and its Mystery," by Prof. Edward S. 
Morse; "Starting in Life," a practical guide to the selection of a business or profession, by 
Nathaniel C. Fowler, Jr., assisted by over a hundred representative men; Lilian Whiting's 
"From Dream to Vision of Life," uniform with "The World Beautiful; "Last Verses," by 
the late Susan Coolidge; "A Handbook of Polar Discoveries," by A. W. Greely ; "Buff, A 
Tale for the Thoughtful," a popular work on the common sense of health, by a "Physi- 
opath"; "The Stars and Stripes and Other American Flags," by Peleg D. Harrison; "The 
Economy of Happiness," a new book on economics, by James Mackaye; "The Syllogistic 
Philosophy," by Francis E. Abbot; "An Atlas of Physiology and Anatomy," prepared on 
an entirely new plan; "Forget-Me-Not," a book of selections for daily reading, by Anna 
Hellen Stearns and Clara Bancroft Beatley ; and "Paul the Apostle," as viewed by a lay- 
man, by Edward H. Hall. 

George Wharton James, the author and lecturer, has returned from a perilous journey 
made down the oveflow of the Colorado River in Southern California to the mysterious 
Salton Sea, and his vivid account of his experiences will be incorporated in his new book, 
"The Wonders of the Colorado Desert." Latest reports from the southwest state that 
"despite all efforts of the Southern Pacific Company to check the flow of the Colorado 
River into the Salton sink, the river, now almost to high-water mark, is emptying water 
enough into the sink to cause a rise of .46 of an inch every twenty-four hours. The area 
now covered by the sea is approximately 500 square miles. The lowest point in this great 
basin is more than 260 feet below the sea level, and if nothing can be done to check the 
flow of the river, it will eventually fill up." 

Cfte t©oobranger Cales 

A Series of Historical Novels devoted to a description of pioneer life on the Old New 
England and Canadian frontiers. Four volumes, tall i2mo, in uniform binding. Price, 
$1.25 each. 

THE WOODRANGER, A Story of the Pioneers of the Debatable Ground. Illus- 
trated by L. J. Bridgman. 312 pp ; $1.25. 

The scene of this book is the tract of country along the Merrimack River claimed by 
the settlers from Massachusetts and New Hampshire. Among the historical characters 
are young John Stark, afterwards famous as General Stark, William Stark, his older 
brother, the Captain under Wolfe at the taking of Quebec, Robert Rogers, later known as 
" Rogers the Ranger," Col. John Goffe, the noted scout and Indian fighter, besides others, 
the MacDonalds, of Glencoe, the McNeils, of Londonderry, and that semi-historic and 
romantic forester, " The Woodranger." Not only does this tale deal with the differences 
arising from a bitter hatred of races, but it portrays in a picturesque manner the home-life 
of the colonists, their trials and hardships, their sports and adventures in the clearing and 
in the wilderness. 



iv GRANITE STATE MAGAZINE 



^o<z^o<^>oo<z>)o<r^o<z>OQ<ri>0()<cr>o(^^ 

Special Training | 

in Demand \ 

The business world of today demands special h 

training. For the untrained or the half-trained, it t 

y has no use. The best training you can have at the | 

A outset of a business career is a practical knowledge f 

g of Shorthand and Typewriting, coupled with | 

(j a thorough understanding of the principles of Ac- f 

<% counting and kindred subjects. j 

y Such a young person starts out in life at double \ 

ft the wages of those who are ignorant of these branches 1 

| and from the very beginning enjoys better opportuni- 1 

A ties for advancement. Shorthand and typewriting I 

j? bring you in touch with the inner workings of the < 

y business. A knowledge of Accounting makes you ( 

f familiar with the methods employed by business j 

y houses and enables you to digest the facts of a daily, ! 

A weekly, monthly, or yearly report. This will bring j 

s you in direct contact with the very men who are < 

fl able to promote you, if you deserve it. I 

t The work of this school is exceedingly practi- ' 
y cal in all departments. You will receive instruction at 

K the hands of teachers who have had practical experi- ' 

t ence, who will teach you things that you ought to ; 
K and must know. Write for further information. 

<■» » ■ * 

jj Nashua Business College 

5? Telegraph Block Chas. Heipel, Principal 




The New Visible 
FOX 



is the latest and only perfect visible Typewriter 
that correctly solves the objections that hereto- 
ffl fore have always been made against front- 

stroke machines. 
\- ■■■-,■.*..■■■- :j Key Tension. 21-2 ounces; Aluminum Key 

Levers; Bail-Bearing Carriage; Two-Color 
Ribbon ; Interchangeable Carriage; Tabulator ; 
^^-^'' : ^^^ e ^^sm^^^j\ Line Lock. 

MVy^l ^^J The Fox courts scientific investiga- 

Ijjliij^^ - " "'" tion by typewriter critics* 

THE NOVELTY CO., 

141 Hanover St., Manchester, N. H. Tel. 309-12. 

Genera! Agents for New Hampshire for the 

Light Running Blind and Visible FOX, and the Low Priced POSTAL, 
The Best HIGH AND LOW PRICED Writers in the World 



Goburn's Picture Store 



E. R. COBURN /J%™»aV\ W. P. COBURN 




picture frames |Habe to Orber. 

Any Size, Any Style, Any Quantity. 
Prompt Delivery. Call and See Us. 

^rttsite' Catenate 

Paints, Brushes, Sketch Blocks, Books, Crayons, etc 
CANVAS STRETCHED TO ORDER. 

62 Hanover Street, Manchester, N, HL 



jftSandje£ter Rational 25anfe 

HAS BEEN LOCATED 

FOR FIFTY YEARS 

AT THE CORNER OF ELM AND MARKET STS. 

/$antf)£Sttr, ^eto ifampsfjire. 



Walter M. Parker, President. 

W. Byron Stearns, Cashier. 




fioKEN RECORD 
36****** 

' YEARS 

ProgR es5 
•NasseT 5 

v AND 
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k SOUND. §dllA 

sVCC ^u L 
"its 

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Poucy 

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tff mjtt 



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PRICE PER YEAR $1.50. SINGLE COPY 15 CENTS. 



VOL. II. SEPTEMBER, 1906. NO. 3. 

3 



! Granite State § 

3 — a 



I 






HAGAZINE 



g 

fe AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY ft 

1 



i 



w 



t ' 
I 



a 



,^>> 



s 



I 









GRANITE STATE PUBLISHING CO., MANCHESTER, X..H. 



The Hesser Business College 

REOPENED TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 1906. 

It is recognized as the most practical and progressive 
business school in northern New England. Its graduates are 
in demand and occupy positions in the best business houses 
of the city and state. 

It Presents the Following Practical Courses of Study: 

COMPLETE BUSINESS. An education within itself for 
any person. Orthography, English, General Correspondence. 
Rapid Calculations, Commercial Law, Business Arithmetic. 
Penmanship, Business Methods, Bookkeeping — single and 
double entry, Advanced Bookkeeping, Corporation and 
Voucher Accounting, and Banking. Time : six to ten 
months. 

COMPLETE STENOGRAPHIC. Fits for Stenographic 
positions* Shorthand, Typewriting, Spelling, English, Copy- 
ing^ Filing, Indexing, Addressing and Office Practice. 
Pupils of this course may take Penmanship and Rapid Cal- 
culations if they so desire. Requirements for graduation : 
One hundred and twenty words a minute in shorthand trans- 
cribed on machine at thirty words per minute. Time : seven 
to ten months. 

BUSINESS-SHORTHAND. Designed especially for per- 
sons from grammar or district schools. The work of the Com- 
plete Business course is finished, with the exception of Cor- 
poration Accounting and Banking, to which is added the 
Complete Stenographic course. Time : ten to fourteen 
months. 

ENGLISH. To supply a call for a short course in the fun- 
damentals of the common branches, both as an independent 
training and as preparatory to our Business and Shorthand 
courses, we have prepared for classes in the following Eng- 
lish subjects : Penmanship, Arithmetic, English, Correspon- 
dence, Spelling and Defining, Rapid Calculations and Billing. 
Classes will be formed in Reading and other subjects should 
a sufficient number desire. 

Every young person should have the training we give no 
matter what vocation in life they follow. 

All Graduates Assisted to Secure Positions. 

Catalogue and Full Information on Readiest. 

"IT'S A GOOD SCHOOL." 
J. H. HESSER, Principal, Manchester, N. H. 







. 



The New Visible 
FOX 

is the latest and only perfect visible Typewriter 
that correctly solves the objections that hereto- 
fore have always been made against front- 
stroke machines. 

Key Tension, 21-2 ounces: Aluminum Key 
Levers ; Bail-Bearing Carriage ; Two-Color 
Ribbon ; Interchangeable Carriage; Tabulator; 
Line Lock. 

The Fox courts scientific investiga- 
tion by typewriter critics. 

THE NOVELTY CO., 

141 Hanover St., Manchester, N. H. Tel. 309-12. 

Genera! Agents for New Hampshire for the 

Light Running Blind and Visible FOX, and the Low Priced POSTAL, 
The Best HIGH AND LOW PRICED Writers in the World 




Gobum's Picture Store 



E. R. COBURN 




W. P. COBURN 



•^ 



picture frames Jf&abe to Artier. 

Any Size, Any Style, Any Quantity. 
Prompt Delivery. Call and See Us. 

Mvtim' Catenate 

Paints, Brushes, Sketch Blocks, Books, Crayons, etc 
CANVAS STRETCHED TO ORDER. 

62 Hanover Street, Manchester, N* H 



C fj e 

IBancfje^ter Rational 2?anii 

HAS BEEN LOCATED 

FOR FIFTY YEARS 

AT THE CORNER OF ELM AND MARKET STS. 

S&anti)fZcr, J^ckn ifampSfjire, 



Walter .M. Parker, President, 

W. Bvron Stearns, Cashier. 



■ Will You Be One \ 

in the chain of advertisers ? Our best advertisements J 

are our satisfied customers. If we do your optical a 

work you : will probably bring your friends to us, f 

therefore we want to fit YOUR eyes. _ f 

The Babbitt Co. > 

OPTICIANS f 

721 Beech St., 277 Main St., 150 Merrimack St , f 

t 
t 

A single man about 20, of good height, with plenty of push f 
and good habits, can find a chance to learn the Optical business f 
by applying at once to our Nashua office. No smoking. ^ 

$ 

. 



MANCHESTER, N. H NASHUA, N. H. LOWELL, MASS. 

Tel. 524-12 Tel. 447-12 Tel. 688-5